


Children of the Water

by OtherCat



Series: Perfect Mind [6]
Category: Chrno Crusade
Genre: Action/Adventure, Multi, Romance, World War II, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-10
Updated: 2009-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:18:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 54,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtherCat/pseuds/OtherCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>August 1939. Joshua must join forces with new allies and old friends when the Germans get their hands on forbidden demonic technology. Sequel to Perfect Mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Op: Marching Orders

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to Perfect Mind. Remember I'm using the anime time line, so the events of PM took place from Fall and Winter 1929, to Mid-summer of 1930. You'll probably need to skim through PM to figure out wtf I'm talking about.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a wake up call.

"Sam!"

"Daddy!"

Alarmed feminine shrieks from the kitchen propelled me from my nice warm cave into the glare of midday sunlight. It would have been nice to say that I represented the the very model of the _pater familias_ off to defend home and family from whatever had caused their distress. Unfortunately, I probably more closely resembled a hungover revenant. "What's going on, Beth?" I asked my wife, trying to look alert and protective.

"There was a huge bird in the window, Sam, an eagle!"

I immediately looked to my wife's cuckoo clock. The big and little hands on the infernal device informed me that I was two hours past my usual check in. "It's just The Kid sending me a wake up call," I said. "Nothing to worry about."

The curve of Beth's mouth went flat as she gave me a glare. To say she didn't approve of The Kid, or my working for him went without saying. On the other hand, it paid the bills, and my girl knew the value of a dime. "Nothing to worry about? What if Junie had been outside? What if it had attacked her?"

"Wakinyan wouldn't attack Junie," I said. Beth looked less than convinced. "Where is he now?" I edged past wife and daughter, and headed toward the icebox.

"In the tree by the picnic table," Beth Junior said helpfully.

I dug around in the icebox and came up with a pot roast. I took it out, grabbed a couple bowls, a knife, and a cutting board, and over my wife's strenuous objections, started reducing it to chunks. "Sam, that roast was for dinner!"

"We can have stew instead," I pointed out as I divided the chunks into two piles. "Most of the same ingredients, but stew stretches more." I put the piles into bowls, and handed one of them to Junior. "Go put this on the picnic table, and say 'Sam's awake,' just that, okay?"

"Okay!" Beth Junior took the bowl and went outside, over Beth's "Junie!" I covered the second bowl, and put it back in the icebox. Beth sputtered, face reddening with anger.

"Wakinyan won't hurt Junie," I repeated, hoping to head her off. Beth wasn't having any of it though.

"That thing is a sorcerer's familiar, it's a demon! It's bad enough you're up to your ears in-in diabolical business, but I won't have you risking Junie's life or soul!" She started for the door after Junie, but I caught her by the arm and reeled her in, and faced her toward the kitchen window. Beth struggled and swore, but didn't try to hit me, she wasn't mad enough for that.

"The Kid isn't a sorcerer, and Wakinyan isn't a demon." Half-demonic, if that, but I wasn't going to try explaining all that to Beth. "Just pipe down, and watch." Outside Beth Junior was setting the bowl down, and delivering the message. The eagle tilted his head at her, then glided over to the table, and started gobbling down the chunks of meat. When he was done, he nudged the bowl, then took off. "There, see? He ate pot roast instead of little girl." I let Beth loose, and stepped back.

"This time, but you don't know about next time," Beth said angrily.

"This time, next time, the time after that," I said. "I won't say Wakinyan's harmless, but he's not gonna attack Junior, okay?"

"Go call your boss," Beth said, and stalked off.

I sighed, went to the phone, and dialed the Embassy. After getting redirected three times I finally got The Kid. "You missed your check-in, Sam," The Kid said in a cheerful voice. The one that made him sound like a villain in a adventure serial. "Fortunately for you, something's come up and I'm reassigning the Dautry case to Theo."

"What! Kid, I just came across a new lead. You can't just pull me off the trail like this!"

"And I wouldn't, if it weren't important Sam," The Kid said.

"Yeah? How important is important?"

"Life and someone else's death important. I can't talk about it on the phone. Come to the Embassy as quickly as possible."

"Am I going to need an overnight bag?" I asked, the usual not quite code phrase for finding out how long the job was going to take.

"We'll provide one," The Kid said dryly. "See you later, Sam." There was a click as the phone disconnected.

"Well hell," I said to the phone, and put the receiver back in its cradle. I turned, and there Junie was, giving me a big eyed look.

"Are you going on a trip, Daddy?" Beth Junior asked.

"Looks like, sweetheart. Did the eagle fly away?"

Junior nodded, and put the bowl on the counter. "Are you going to stay for dinner?"

"If I didn't, your Mom would kill me," I said, and went to confront the lioness in her den.

* * *

Here's the thing; I owed The Kid my life, in the most literal sense possible. Tuberculosis ended my very brief military career, as well as my career as a private detective. I was sick most of the time, couldn't hold a job, and had a wife with a baby on the way. I'd managed to get into school, but there was this ugly cloud hanging overhead--my hospital stays were getting longer, and I didn't know how much time I had left.

So one day (it was 1927, in September) I was walking home from a business school where I'd been taking classes, and while I'm getting a hotdog from a vendor, this kid came up. He was thin and blonde and washed out looking, and had an a ugly rattle when he breathed. I didn't pay the kid any mind as he ordered himself a hot dog and cherry soda, and he didn't seem to pay me any mind, until one of my coughing fits started up, and drop my hot dog. Or at least, I thought I'd dropped my hotdog--because suddenly I was sitting on a park bench that I could have sworn was twenty feet away and hacking up a lung. The kid meanwhile, had both hot dogs, and was watching me with a concerned frown. "What the--?" I wheezed.

"I moved you," the kid said, as if being suddenly transported twenty feet instantaneously was perfectly normal. (I would later learn that for him, it pretty much was.) "I probably shouldn't have, but you looked like you were going to fall over."

I was about to ask some combination of _who the hell are you_ and _what the hell just happened_, when a guy all in white, with long white hair and glasses showed up. How he showed up I can't quite describe, because it was like there was this blur, and then he was standing there.

He had a sort of light coppery skin tone, like he would have been darker, but didn't get enough sun, and his eyes were an odd color. A sort of pale lavender. He had long white hair, which he had held back in a tail. The skin, hair and cheek bones made me think "Indian" but he spoke very precise and proper English with a slight accent that didn't sound like any Indian I'd ever heard. He scolded the kid like I wasn't there at all, warning him about public displays, while the kid smiled like he'd heard it all before, and wasn't going to pay attention any more than he had the last time. "They didn't see anything, Ian," The kid said, and the Indian guy tilted an eyebrow at the kid. "Master, do they _seem_ like they've seen anything?" The kid said, and this time he sounded almost irritated. I blinked at the Master bit, but I don't get a chance to say anything, because I started coughing again.

"Well, I can see why he drew your attention, Joshua," Ian said. "What are you going to do with him?" The way the Indian guys said it gave me the creeps, like I was a stray dog or cat the kid had found. I didn't like it, but I didn't say anything, because the world had gone sideways, and every hair on my body was trying to stand up on end.

"He might be useful, Master. He's a detective. I can heal him," the kid--Joshua--said in a wheedling voice that made Ian smile fondly at the kid. The kid's return smile was absolutely blinding, and somehow even creepier than Ian's whole attitude. Joshua handed off the hotdogs to Ian, who gave him a startled, exasperated look, but went along with it, like he was humoring the kid. "It's all right, Sam," the kid said, and his tone might have been reassuring, except for the tiny detail that we hadn't actually been formally introduced, and he puts his hands on my chest. When he touched me, there was this light that appeared, that went right into me. For a second, I could see wings, glowing white wings coming out of the kid's back, and horns coming out of the kid's head.

For some reason, the only thing I could think to say was, _"holy shit."_

And that was how I met Joshua Christopher, twelve years ago.

By the time I'd gotten to the Lemurian Embassy it was evening, and the protestors that always seemed to be camping out by the front gates had all gone home. In its previous life, the embassy building had been a hotel, according to popular legend, the hotel had been rendered uninhabitable by The Kid's big sister, then a member of the Magdalen Order, during a routine exorcism. Big sister is also allegedly guilty of destroying an entire city block, and crashing no less than fifteen cars, two trains and an ocean liner. To hear some of my coworkers tell it, the girl was a one-woman wrecking crew, even before she became some kind of Demon Queen. Given how much stories grow in the telling, I'm not sure how much, or what to believe.

The wrought iron gates open up, and I drove inside. There were only four other cars in the parking lot, which meant most of the human staff had gone home. Well, three of the cars belonged to human staff, the fourth car belonged to Mike Willis, FBI agent and permanent pain in my ass. _"Sonuvabitch!"_

I parked my car and exited, slamming the door and stomping up the stairs to the front door. I keyed the door plate, and the door clicked, and silently swung open. The lobby lights went from a sort of brownish half-light to bright in a few seconds, and the door shut behind as I entered. No one was at the front desk, which didn't mean anything. I took the elevator to the twelfth floor where The Kid's office was located. The only person I encountered was one of the Nameless Interchangeable Soldier Demons who never talked to anyone except each other. He was leaning against the wall, dressed in a black suit and a fedora. The demon nodded to me, and the door opened.

The Kid's office is pretty big, with a glass fronted book case that takes up most of one wall. The books are everything from law and history to demonology and alchemy texts, most of the latter confiscated from sorcerers by operatives like me. The Kid's desk is in the corner opposite the wall with the book case, out of line with the window which had shatterproof, bullet proof something-that-was-clear-but-not-glass. The Kid was at his desk, and Mike was perched on one of the two chairs in front of it, his hat hanging from his fingers.

On the desk were the usual stacks of paper, the typewriter, and photos in little gilt frames. One of them was of three girls and a boy wearing a long coat about a century or two out of fashion. Another was of a pretty blonde girl leaning against a tall Indian-looking man who had his arms around her waist. Behind The Kid was a oil painting of a woman with dark hair. She wore a maid uniform, and the saddest expression I've ever seen. To the left of the desk was a wrought iron parrot perch where Wakinyan was currently sitting. "The feather duster beat me here?" I asked. The eagle gave me a paint-peeling glare and hissed like an angry goose, which made the FBI agent jump, like he'd thought the eagle was a taxidermy project until that moment.

"So it appears," The Kid said, amused. "Have a seat, Sam. You've already met Mr. Willis."

"Yeah. In my back pocket, half the time." We exchanged glares. I couldn't stand the guy, and I knew the guy didn't like me, mostly because of my politics. "Why's he here, anyway?"

"Mr. Willis has some interesting information for us," The Kid said. "Or, more precisely, he has interesting eyes-only information for the Queen and Master." The Kid indicated the metal cuff locked around one of Mike's wrists that I frankly felt really embarrassed for not noticing earlier. I blame being hungover. Attached to the cuff was a brief case. Also for the first time, I noticed the look in the guy's face. The expression was a combination of fear, and that particular brand of _gutted_ that happens when you realize your life as you knew it effectively over. The instant Mike set foot on Lemurian soil, Mike would no longer be an FBI agent, and he probably wouldn't ever be able to go home, unless government policy about Lemuria changed. He'd been assigned to the American Embassy in Lemuria.

_"Holy shit,"_ I said, then said it again, because I realized what The Kid wanted. "I'm going to the Deep Freeze, aren't I?"


	2. The Magus: Aurora Australis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find out a little more of what happened at the end of Perfect Mind.

_ Wednesday May 21st, 1930 _

"I'm tired of waking up in hospital beds," Joshua said when he'd awakened. He knew he was in the Madgalen infirmary, and suspected it was the very room he'd first awakened in all those long months ago. He looked up. Yes, there was the crack in the ceiling that resembled Italy--it was the same room. Shader was sprawled in a chair by the bed, snoring a little cat-snore with her mouth hanging open, and her glasses sliding off her face. "Shader, hey, wake up!" Joshua said, and repeated himself a little louder when she just twitched and mumbled incoherently.

"Dolsa riun," _fifteen minutes_, Shader whined, and wiggled in her chair, trying to get comfortable. Then her ears twitched, and she was up in a flash. "You're awake!" She bounced and hugged him. "You've been out for almost forty eight hours, since the Light." She gave him a concerned look. "Do you remember the Light? The past few weeks, your name? I should probably run tests." She ruffled his hair, taking care to avoid the still-sensitive areas of his scalp.

Joshua smiled wryly. "My name is Joshua Christopher, I'm fourteen--no wait, fifteen--years old. The past few weeks I've been trying to keep you from overdosing on sugar and caffiene--but I don't remember a light." The last thing he clearly remembered was talking to Sister Kate after that first echo from Chrono. _First echo?_ Joshua prodded the thought cautiously. First implied there had been more than one. "What happened," He asked after telling her what his last memory had been.

"It's been two weeks since that first echo," Shader said. "You had two more after that, and a few really brief flashes. The last echo was during the Light. Then you kind of collapsed." She ruffled his hair again. "I have to go tell people you're awake. I'll bring you something to eat."

Shader left the room before he could ask, "what light?" So Joshua lay back on the bed, feeling as if his head were stuffed with cotton. He tried to remember, but nothing came to him, except a memory of voices, many hundreds of voices speaking as one, and a feeling of joy and rage and terror. "Gestalt," he said, and his fingers suddenly itched for a pen and a pad of paper. If he could write, he thought the distant memory of voices would become more clear, that he'd be able to write down the words that hovered just on the edge of his awareness.

Shader came back with a blueberry muffin, a bowl of chicken soup, and a glass of apple juice. She was accompanied by Ewan and Sister Kate. Joshua sat up, and tried to look awake and lucid. "How are you feeling, Joshua?" Sister Kate asked as Shader set the tray on his lap.

"Better, a little fuzzy though, Sister Kate," Joshua said, and ate some of his soup. "Shader mentioned a light? And that I had some kind of fit?" There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but something held him back from asking. Fear. _Don't be dead again. Don't be dead because I have so much I need to tell you,_ that fear said in the back of his mind.

"Two nights ago sky filled with great waves of light," Sister Kate said.

"Like the Aurora Borealis?" Joshua asked. _Like the Astralline?_

"It might be more accurate to say Aurora Australis," Ewan said. "It came from the south, and was seen as far north as Siberia. Various wards and and barriers activated all over the world, or broke under the tidal wave of Astral energy. There's also been some difficulty with radio transmissions and telephone lines."

"That should sort itself out in a few days," Joshua said, then frowned. Where had that knowledge come from? He shook his head. "What about the fit," he prompted.

Ewan looked like he would rather pursue Joshua's comment, but instead he said, "it was almost as if you were sleep-walking. You appeared to be having an argument with someone, then you collapsed."

"Did I win the argument?" Joshua asked. He meant it to be humorous, but it made both Ewan and Sister Kate frown. "I'm sorry," he said immediately. "What did I say?"

Sister Kate and Ewan answered most of his questions, but left many more before they took their leave. Joshua ate the soup and muffin, and submitted to Shader's tests. While she ran her tests he tried to play the gracious patient to doctors and well-wishers, though he would have preferred being alone with his thoughts.

* * *

_ Thursday, June 5th, 1930 _

_"You have bound us, destroyed us, and sought to use us for your own purposes, and we have responded in kind. Now we will do something that has not been done before; we will speak to each other." _

Two weeks later the Madgalen Order airship _Metatron_ approached McMurdo Sound. The atmosphere on board crackled with tension. No one knew what might happen, or what they would find. It started with radio contact, a repeated message requesting communication. The first to reply was Russia, followed by Britain, then America.

The initial requests and statements of intent were straight forward, and left no room for negotiation. The demons (naming themselves "the People of Pandaemonium") were claiming Antarctica as their home territory. They were willing to establish diplomatic relations with humankind, and would allow the establishment of human embassies or trading posts in Antarctica. The Madgalen Order would serve as mediators, and would be responsible for initial transportation...and whomever they decided to send, Joshua Christopher had better be included in that number.

Joshua smiled as he remembered the reactions to the latter. He had heard that the Order's Council had been furious at the preemptory demand, but the New York branch had just taken it be a clear confirmation that Rosette was alive. It had taken a direct order from the Pope himself to get the Council to agree to it.

It was twilight when the Metatron landed on a field that had been marked off by black and gray boulders. A party of demons waited for them to disembark. They wore robes with something like a chasuble or tabard over them. _Elders,_ he thought, though he couldn't say how he knew this. They stood beside a vehicle with no wheels that resembled some kind of huge fish. Beyond them, there was a collection of buildings with sharply peaked roofs. Tension crackled in the air as the delegates made their way to the hatch, surrounded by grim faced Militia members. The hatch opened, letting in bitterly cold air and a flurry of snow, and the ramp was lowered.

The demons approached the Metatron, stopping twenty feet from the ramp. "The Queen greets you, and offers you all due courtesy," the demon at the fore of the group said in English. "We have provided food and lodging, please avail yourselves of the opportunity to rest before discussion begins."

"Thank you," said Quentin Landry, the English ambassador said. "Lord--?" He asked, prompting for an introduction.

"Gilgamesh Physician-Elder," the demon said, sounding amused. "Mister--?" Gilgamesh asked in the same tone of voice. "Introductions would be better made indoors, please accompany us." The demons escorted them to the fish-vehicle, and instructed the delegates in how to strap themselves in. The fish-vehicle--the flyer--rose a few feet off the ground, and sped over to the buildings.

Once inside the nearest building, introductions were made with stiff formality, and caution--on both sides, Joshua thought. The ambassadors were ushered off on a tour of the building, leaving behind Bishop Marteau, who had been chosen as advisor and translator if needed, Sister Kate who'd been acting as the mission's commander, a few Militia members, and Joshua himself. "Lord Gilgamesh," the bishop said. "Can you tell us the whereabouts of Sister Rosette Christopher? It is believed that she is...in the custody of your people."

"Your Grace, we are reluctant to reveal her location, since she has broken her vows as a postulant of your Order," the demon said. "Particularly those vows related to chastity. I believe there are also certain secular laws she's broken as well." Despite the serious tone, Joshua had the definite feeling that the demon was laughing at them. Gilgamesh looked at Joshua then. "Your sister invites you to join her and your brother for dinner, Mr. Christopher, are you free to join them?"

_Rosette. Chrono. _"Yes," Joshua said immediately, not even glancing at Sister Kate or the Bishop for permission. Somehow, it felt as if he'd passed a test.

The demon bowed slightly. "Then if you would accompany me?"

* * *

_Tuesday, January 13th, 1931_

"Joshua, are you sure you want to do this?" Chrono asked. They stood on the roof of the newly erected Lemurian Embassy building. The sky was gray-silver with clouds, moonlight, and the barest hint of stars. The air was frosty, but not nearly as cold or windy as it would have been on the street--there was a barrier in place that protected the building from the elements. Three others just like it were being constructed in London, Moscow and Paris, with sometimes violent responses from the populace.

Joshua looked at Chrono. Chrono was wearing a tight, long sleeved black shirt, a metal neckguard, black trousers with a green and gold tabard over it. Straps that looked like leather were wrapped around his arms, legs, and feet. His hair was was neatly braided, and his brow was covered by a headband.

It still felt strange, seeing him like this, as an adult. The Chrono Joshua had known had been a boy only a little older than either himself or Rosette. The first times he had seen Chrono in his adult form, Joshua been either insane or utterly focussed on defending Aion. Or both. "I think I have to," Joshua said. "I know I'm still not well, and I probably won't ever be, but Master Gil says this is something I can learn."

There had been no way to pretend it would be like old times. The three of them had changed so much from the people they had been there had been no point in trying to return to the previous pattern. The past few months had been spent getting reacquainted in between diplomatic incidents for Rosette and Chrono to stumble through and endless tests and medical treatments for Joshua to be subjected to.

Shader had been by Joshua's side almost the entire time, except when she had been recovering from the gauntlet that had been held to punish her for her actions as a Sinner. He hadn't been allowed to defend her, which had infuriated him to the point where he actually tried--instinctively--to reach for the temporal shift power of Chrono's now long-gone horns so he could get Shader away from the technicians beating her to a pulp. Nothing had happened of course, except for a terrible headache--but it had led to long talks with the Physician-Elder, and the beginning of a peculiar sort of apprenticeship.

The closest demonkind had ever come to diplomacy and espionage had been when the occasional high ranking demon had found himself an unwilling observer of the palace intrigues of one of the great empires. Though sorcery was often forbidden by those same empires, no monarch had ever disdained the use of a sorcerer's power. No demon had ever directly served the interests of Pandaemonium as a diplomat, though many had been Her spies. If the new nation was to survive, Lemuria needed human agents and diplomats, people who could go where demons could not--and Gil thought that Joshua had potential.

"Is it something you want?" Chrono asked.

Joshua felt the echo of Chrono's concern. Worry, for the most part that Joshua only wanted to do this out of a misplaced sense of duty, or for penance. "It's something I want," Joshua said. "Why I want to...is a little complicated." He looked out over New York's skyline, and the city lights that drowned out all but the brightest stars. "I want to help you both, but I also want to see the world, and I think this will be the best way to do it." He grinned. "It'll be a long time before I can actually go on missions, so you don't have to worry about me destroying anything."

Chrono laughed. He seemed about to reply when a familiar scream filled the air, an eagle's cry above the sound of the traffic. Chrono startled, eyes immediately searching. Joshua heard the echo of his thought; _Aion!?_ Surprise and fear-anger radiated from Chrono's suddenly defensive pose. The demon's claws were extended, and the air around him shimmered slightly.

Wakinyan! Joshua caught Chrono's arm. "It's all right," he said. "Don't hurt him." He stepped away from Chrono, looking up and wishing he had Chrono's night vision. He spotted the eagle, a darker shadow against other shadows. Joshua had wondered off and on what had become of Aion's eagle--it hadn't seemed likely that he would really be able to survive on his own. Yet somehow, he had.

He moved away from Chrono, half afraid to take his eyes off of the dark silhouette of the eagle. When Joshua thought he'd been spotted by the bird, he held out his arm, and whistled, wishing he had a lure to draw it down. The eagle circled, spiraling in to land on his upraised arm. The sharp talons closed with unnatural care as he settled. Wakinyan bated, then flipped his wings closed. Chrono was staring at him, staring at the eagle, with an expression of horror on his face. Remembering that night in San Francisco, Joshua thought. The eagle stared back, and hissed, eyes flickering red. "It's all right," Joshua repeated. "His name is Wakinyan, it means 'thunder spirit' in Lakota."

"What is it doing here?" Chrono asked, voice edged with tension. _Aion. _The echo from Chrono might as well have been a shout.

"Looking for me, I think," Joshua said. "Or one of the other Sinners. He must have been drawn by the concentration of Legion in this building."

"Aion used it as some kind of intermediary," Chrono said softly, eyeing the bird warily.

"Aion is dead," Joshua replied. He wasn't able to keep the sadness from his voice. "All Wakinyan is, is a very clever construct."

"You love Aion." If Ewan had said it, he would have sounded disturbed, Joshua thought. Azmaria would have sounded horrified and disgusted--Rosette would have sounded angry. Chrono sounded sympathetic, and that was almost worse. "I--we know you still miss him."

"I shouldn't," Joshua said. "I shouldn't miss someone who has hurt so many people." Absentmindedly, Joshua smoothed Wakinyan's breast feathers. Wakinyan churred, sounding more like a parrot than an eagle, then he made his food-begging noise. "Later," Joshua murmured, then whistled. The eagle gave him a disgruntled look, but subsided.

"He was my brother," Chrono said. "I still loved him, even when I hated him."

I'm angry at him, but I don't but I don't think I could hate him, Joshua thought. He might have said as much aloud, but Wakinyan made the food-begging noise again. Joshua smiled. "We should go inside to talk," he said. "Before Wakinyan decides to see if fingers and ears are edible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And once again, made up demon language.
> 
> PSA: Do NOT attempt to pet an eagle the way Joshua is doing. Wakinyan is not precisely an eagle.


	3. The Op: Hurry Up and Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is antagonism, a discussion on funerary practices (the details of which Sam Does Not Want to Know,) and a debriefing.

The singing started up a few minutes after we were dismissed from The Kid's office. It started with a low, deep sound that would made you think you were hearing things until it got up into ranges that humans can actually hear. In harmony with the low ground shaking note was sort of droning whistle--definitely an acquired taste. Willis didn't look like he was interested in acquiring it though. He looked like he wanted to jump right out of his skin. "What the hell is that?" he hissed in a low voice.

"Choir practice," I said. Willis gave me a blankly confused look. "They're singing," I said. "They usually start up after most of the human staff has gone home."

"That's singing?" Willis asked, disbelief clear in his tone. "It's sounds like a bunch of yowling cats."

I shrugged. It didn't sound anything like cats to me, but then, I was used to it. "That's probably why they don't start up 'til just about everyone's gone home," I said. "You get anything to eat?" I start down the hallway.

"I thought we'd be leaving immediately," Willis said, following along side me.

"No, I have to pick up my overnight bag, sign a few papers, and by the time that's done, the gate should be ready to take us to the Deep Freeze." The time I took would also give the decoys the Kid would have sent out first a head start, but if Willis didn't realize that, I wasn't going to tell him.

I escorted Willis to the cafeteria, where a majority of the singers were. A double dozen demons, none of them particularly human looking at the moment, in one corner of the cafeteria. They'd pushed aside most of the tables and were sitting on chairs or the floor in an uneven circle. An earthy, spicy smell was in the air, coming from the carafes on a nearby table.

Food had been laid out, some of it raw, and a lot of it weird looking. Steamed fiddleheads, blue roasted somethings that weren't an Earth vegetable, raw vegetables, steamed artichokes, plates of raw meat, rounds of flat bread, dishes of various condiments were scattered amongst the food, and on the floor was a big tub that I knew would be full of live fish. One of the demons was frying thin slices of beef and onions on what looked like a flat stone to make steak sandwiches, while another was making shish kebabs, and not bothering to cook it before passing them off to his friends.

The only humans in the cafeteria were me, Willis, a couple of the night security staff and a gawky, messy-haired college kid with glasses I'd seen poking around asking demons and humans alike too many questions about all kinds of weird things. The kid studied anthropology or something, and spoke a dozen languages, three of 'em dead. He helped translate alchemical, demonology, and sorcery texts, identified artifacts, and was currently being trained in code-breaking.

Willis looked a little green at the sight of raw meat being eaten, and his lips pressed tightly together. Then he blinked as the one of the smells registered. "Are they drinking hot chocolate?" Willis asked.

"Xocolatl. There should be coffee too," I said, and heartlessly abandoned Willis to the demonic coffee klatch.

I found Octavia down in supply room, reading a pulp. _The Web of La Arana!_ The cover declared. La Arana seemed to be a pretty redhead in a skimpy black outfit holding a rifle on a gunslinger I presumed to be the hero of the piece. "You know that stuff's going to rot your brains, right?" I asked teasingly.

"You're not making me read your highbrow crud, Tomlin," Tavie Valerio said, giving me a mock glare over the top of her magazine. Then she grinned, and set her copy of _Western Adventures_ down, and stood up. "I have your bag ready, just sign in." She handed me clip board, and headed into the back. It took her two trips, one to get the suitcase, the other to get two coats, and two pairs of boots. By the time she was done, I'd finished filling out the forms. She opened the case, and turned to where I could see. "Two sets of clothing, the usual travel kit, emergency medical kit, extra ammunition for your .45, stunner wand, passports, radio." She listed off the contents, showing me everything that had gone into the case. "The gate's terminus is gonna be Mu, not McMurdo Embassy, so you don't need the coats just yet," she said.

I nodded, and switched out my shoes for the boots, which were heavy, and steel toed. "You ever been to Mu, Tavie?" I asked. When Tavie wasn't making sure operatives like me had everything they needed, she was also transferring confiscated artifacts and documents to the other Embassies in Europe and the McMurdo Embassy, so it was more than likely she might have delivered something to the City.

She gave me a odd look. "You mean to say you haven't?"

"I've never been out of the country," I said. "Well, that's not true, I ended up on the wrong side of the Canadian border because of a Wendigo me and The Kid were hunting four, five years ago." In the first years, when the Embassy was still getting started The Kid and I had gone on missions together. According to Gil, the demon who handled most of the office work, I was The Kid's "limiter." Which I guess is a way of saying that The Kid was a rookie, and I was supposed to train him. I don't know what I was supposed to be teaching him, though. Even if half the time he's like a male version of Gracie Allen, he's sneakier than Machiavelli and Cardinal Richelieu put together.

"That's weird. Office gossip is that you've gone and met the Queen herself," Tavie said.

I shook my head. "I've met the Sheik, but not the Sheba," I said. I'd liked him, once I'd gotten to know him, which was surprising, considering he was some kind of not-quite-king, and I was technically one of his lackies. Chrono (a.k.a. The Master, a.k.a. The Ignoble One, a.k.a. The Crooked Horn) was polite, the way demons tended to be (when they weren't insane, or trying to kill and eat you. Or some combination of the two). But with Chrono you got the feeling he was polite and friendly because he liked you, not because he was setting you up. "He was visiting Stateside, so me and The Kid were playing bodyguard." Not that Chrono needed any bodyguarding, it's just that for appearance sake, it's generally a bad idea to have a head of state take out an assassin his own self. That's what us lackies are for.

"Huh," Tavie said, looking like she didn't quite believe me, but was willing to go along with it. "I've only been to Mu once, and I never got a chance to really see anything," she said. "I was in and out of there pretty fast. It's really warm inside the mountain, but you can adjust the temperature and humidity in your own room. Lots of plants, and lots of color everywhere. Pretty, but really weird looking place."

"Tavie, that describes at least half the places in the world."

Octavia shrugged. "Mu is weirder than all the weird places in the world combined."

* * *

When I got back to the cafeteria with all the gear, the college kid--Jackson, his name was--and Shader had Willis cornered. "It was more practical than funerary," Shader was saying as I came up. "Resources were limited, Pandaemonium was always hungry, and so were we, most of the time, even the higher castes."

I absolutely didn't want to know the details of what they were talking about. "Willis, we're ready to go," I said. Willis got up so quick he nearly tripped over the chair he was sitting in, and his briefcase. "Shader, Jackson," I said by way of greeting. The two returned the greeting, and went back to talking about the thing I didn't want to know about.

I handed him a coat and the extra pair of boots. "Courtesy of the New York Lemurian Embassy. You have any luggage besides the brief case?"

Willis took the coat and boots from me. "They said they were sending it ahead."

I nodded. "Put the boots on, and stick the shoes in the inner pockets." Willis did what I said, a little awkwardly, given he was effectively one-handed.

"How long have you been working for Christopher?" Willis asked once we were on our way again.

"Don't you read your own reports, Willis?" I asked. Nine years, not counting the cases I'd worked for The Kid's old boss. There wasn't any way in hell I was going to mention them, even though I technically hadn't done anything illegal. "Nine years. He contacted me with the job offer, and I accepted."

"And it didn't bother you a bit that you were selling your soul to the Devil?" Willis said, giving me a challenging, mulish look I was all too familiar with.

"Kid's human enough, so's his sister," I said blandly.

"That's debatable," Willis snapped.

"Not really. They had human parents, and have hospital records, birth certificates and everything. You can't go randomly kicking people out of the human race, it makes for bad feelings all around." Willis glared at me, but didn't say anything. I sighed. "Willis, why were you even assigned to this mission? Never mind, let's just go."

The trip through the gate was anti-climactic. Maybe one in a thousand humans going through a gate for the first time will become nauseous, but it didn't seem as if either me or Willis were one of them. The transition was so smooth I wouldn't have known it had occurred if the size and shape of the room hadn't changed.

We were met at the Mu terminus by a couple of demons in charcoal gray suits. They were both thin and about five foot six, tops, with wide mouths and sharp chins. Their horns were low, short, and swept forward at jaw level. They were both red heads, and by red I mean a bright, bright red you usually see on fire engines. They were a matched set, but not identical, the one on the left was a bit broader in the shoulders, with a flat nose, and blue eyed, while the guy on the right was thinner, Roman nosed, and yellow eyed. "Samuel Tomlin, Michael Willis? I am Rao, and this is Sekhet, please come with us," the demon on the left said.

Demons don't usually shake hands, so I didn't offer mine, just nodded, my hand touching the brim of my hat. The demons returned the gesture, though when they did it, it was more of a salute. Willis followed my lead, much to my surprise, and we stepped off the platform and followed the two demons.

Mu was just the way Tavie described it; pretty, but really weird. Mu had been dug out of a mountain, and built down its side. The terminus we came from was deep inside the mountain, so the only light was artificial. The air was warm, and a little humid. The pedestrians didn't seem to take any notice of us, except to move out of the way.

Blue and green were the two main colors, everywhere you looked, swirling shapes that curved randomly along the walls, in every shade imaginable. Red and yellow made a significant appearance, as well as purple, brown, white, gray and black. There were murals painted on the wall, bracketed by the more random patterns. The murals were mostly landscapes, mixed with scenes and tableaus that looked like they might have been from whatever demons consider to be history or legend.

Plants seemed to be growing everywhere, in clay pots, wooden boxes and metal tubs. There wasn't any actual sunlight, but that didn't seem to bother the plants any. Some of them were plants you might find in any flower garden, and others looked like they were common weeds, plants no one would ever want in their flower gardens, and looked to be as carefully tended as roses, crocuses and lilies. Still others didn't look like Earth plants at all, though I couldn't be sure they weren't.

"It's a novelty," Sekhet commented, apparently picking up my chain of thought. "Plantings like this were very difficult to maintain, inside Pandaemonium. She tended to treat non-Legion-based plantings as infections, no matter what we did to try and convince Her otherwise."

I nodded like I understood what he was talking about, and Willis looked like at least one of us was crazy. The street or hallway started to slope, and we took a couple turns, and went down a flight of stairs when we came up on a huge double door. The Magdalen Cross was embossed on the door, enclosed by one of the ubiquitous hexagons. This looked like our big moment.

The doors swung open by themselves, revealing a throne room. The flooring looked like marble, and a hexagram had been etched into the floor. On every point and cross-section of the hexagram there was a wrought iron torchiere. At the very center of the room was a dais, with a throne. Sitting on the throne of course, was one Rosette Christopher. She was wearing a green dress, and her hair was longer than it was in the pictures I've seen of her, braided, and tied off with a green ribbon. At her immediate right was Chrono, looking very intimidating in his battle form. On a lower step of the dais were three high ranking devils, two of whose names I didn't know, and one I did. Duke Duffau. General Paramount, yadda yadda yadda. A very big cheese in the devil hierarchy.

"Please come forward, Mr. Tomlin, Mr. Willis," Rosette Christopher said. It was a normal speaking voice, but we heard it clearly from where we were standing at the door. "Have a seat." She pointed to a couple of chairs that had been placed in front of the dais that I couldn't swear had been there the entire time.

We both went forward, almost bumping shoulders. Chrono was giving us both an amused look as we approached. "I um. The President sends his greetings, Your Majesty," Willis said before he sat down. "As prevously agreed upon, I've brought the information you requested." He very carefully twisted the combination lock on the brief case, and opened it. Inside were three huge file folders. Duffau stepped off of the dais, and picked up the folders, then carried them to Chrono. Chrono took the files, and tucked them under his arm.

"Thanks," Rosette said with smile. "You probably want to take a load off, and probably the handcuff too. Rao will take you to the Embassy, you've been given a room there." Willis had a sort of dazed that's it? look on his face, but he stood up. I started to get up too, but Rosette gestured for me to stay put. "Mr. Tomlin you won't be joining him. You'll be staying here." I nodded, and sat back down.

"We have a mission for you, or we will soon, once we read the folders," Chrono said. "In the meantime, Rosette will want to get you to herself, so she can interrogate you on whether or not Joshua is eating properly and getting at least six hours of sleep every night."

The Queen of Lemuria and the People of Pandaemonium gave her beau the evil eye. Whatever else might have passed between them that I couldn't hear made Chrono smile, and induced a coughing fit among the demons in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terms Used
> 
> Lemuria: Ancient lost super-advanced yet extinct lost civilization/continent. Rival and/or precursor of Atlantis. Name was chosen over strenuous protests from Rosette. Current name for the country created by the demons. NOT a reference to lemmings.
> 
> Lemures: (hasn't come up yet, but it might) The evil, restless dead in Roman mythology.
> 
> Mu: Second verse, same as the first. Yet another super-advanced yet extinct yadda yadda. Mu according to some sources equals Lemuria, or vice versa. Current name for the city/colony. Again, name was chosen over Rosette's objections.
> 
> Xocolatl: A drink made from cocoa beans, chili peppers and other spices, a brew adopted by the demons from the Indians of Central and South America.
> 
> People of Pandaemonium: Name demons use for themselves when they want to be really formal.
> 
> Also: For those of you who may be familiar with StarGate, and thus recognize who the college kid must be, I swear to god this isn't a crossover. I just couldn't resist inserting him into the scene. I am a very bad girl.
> 
> Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to google "Tuvan throat-singing" which is kind of nifty.


	4. The Angel: Cadre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Azmaria has a few confrontations

_Saturday, June 28, 1930_

A demon who introduced himself as Rao escorted her to a suite of rooms. Rosette and Chrono's home. The door of the suite slid open, revealing a narrow hallway. A curtain that seemed to be made of long, narrow glass rods obscured her view of the next room. "The Queen and the Master will be here soon to greet you, Sister Azmaria," The demon said. "Your room will be the first to the left."

"Th-thank you," Azmaria said. The demon nodded, and took his leave. With the demon gone, she explored her surroundings. The room immediately after the hallway was a parlor furnished with padded benches, a couch, and two chairs. To the left was a short hallway that led to a bathing room, and three bedrooms. Each bedroom had the screen of glass rods in front of it, in place of a door. To the right was a dining room, the kitchen, and another hallway. The floors where covered by soft, thick mats the color of ivory instead or carpets, tile or wood. The walls were decorated with (or composed of) hexagonal tiles that had an almost crystalline appearance. The colors were predominantly blue, with whispers and swirls of other colors. The lighting was provided by strips of blue-white on the ceiling, and decorative looking spheres of what looked like blue glass.

She took her luggage into her room and unpacked. There was a seperate washroom, a tiny cubicle with just a toilet, sink, and mirror. The bed was a low platform with a single thick pad a foot and a half thick for a mattress. The room had what looked like a hexagonal window--but what she saw was impossible. She approached the window and looked "down" from a two story height at a street in a city, with a cafe and shops. She could see a man walking a dog, a woman with her children, cars passing by. "It's San Francisco, looks real, doesn't it?" Joshua said suddenly, making her jump.

"Joshua, I didn't hear you," Azmaria said, turning.

Joshua grinned. "I could see that. I didn't hear you either, I fell asleep listening to music." He showed her what looked like a radio headset. "I should have been up to greet you."

"That's all right," Azmaria said with a smile. The smile faded though. "As soon as we arrived, some demons came and took Shader. I'm sorry, but they wouldn't tell me where they were taking her."

"Confinement," Joshua said in a toneless voice. He ran a hand through his hair, and looked away for a moment.

"I'm sorry Joshua. She wouldn't be talked out of coming," Azmaria said.

There had been something terrifyingly singleminded about Shader in Joshua's absence, as if some part of the demon had been unable to rest without Joshua's presence. "Joshua's all I got left, kitten. There's Chrono, maybe, but he's Rosette's, and Rosette hates me because I'm Aion's. The whole thing's a snarled up mess in my head, and I need Joshua for an anchor as much as he needs me to keep his head straight," She had said when Azmaria asked. The demon had been plainly terrified at the thought of going to Antarctica, but she had gone anyway, despite her fear.

"It's all right," Joshua said, and tried to smile. "Chrono and Rosette will be here soon," he said. "Want to help me burn dinner?"

It was an awkward change of subject, but Azmaria took it. "Sure," she said, and followed Joshua out of the room. Joshua told her about everything that had happened since his arrival, and answered her questions about the strange technology she had seen so far. The casserole she had helped Joshua put together had gone into the oven, the salad had been made, and they were starting on a rice pudding that would be for dessert when Chrono and Rosette returned.

_"Joshua, I'm gonna get you for this!"_ Rosette shouted. "Don't think making dinner will save you!" She said, and stomped into the kitchen--and stopped, staring at Azmaria. "Azmaria! No one said you were here already!" Rosette was joined by an equally wide eyed Chrono.

"R-Rosette," Azmaria said, and felt tears in her eyes. "Chrono." She had known they were alive, had read the letters they had sent, and even spoken to them briefly over the radio--but she had also helped to wrap their bodies in sheets and carry them to the car. There had been a wake before, and a reception afterward. She had put flowers on Rosette's grave. It hadn't felt real, their being alive, until this moment. "You left me," she said. "You left." Her vision blurred with tears, and suddenly both Rosette and Chrono were holding her, and she was sobbing. "Why didn't you at least say goodbye!"

"I'm sorry, Azmaria," Rosette said, stroking Azmaria's hair. "I was afraid. We both were afraid of going back to the abbey."

"We were being selfish too," Chrono said softly. "We were free, our obligations fulfilled--and nothing seemed truly important anymore, except each other."

"W-why were you afraid?" Azmaria asked. She wanted, out of reflex, to deny the selfishness, but found she couldn't.

"I hurt a lot of people, without meaning to," Rosette said. "I almost killed Chrono. I was the Saint, and I was afraid that even with the spell broken, that I might somehow infect you all, like Typhoid Mary."

"You could h-have sent a telegram! A phone call, anything!" Azmaria said.

"I know, we were being selfish, remember?" Rosette said. "We thought about it, talked about it, but never did anything, because it was easier to do nothing." She gave Azmaria another hug. "I'm glad you came, I wouldn't blame you for blowing us both off, the way we treated you."

"No, I could never do that," Azmaria said, and wiped at her tears with a soft cloth handed her by Chrono. "I missed you so much," she said, looking between her two friends. They looked different. Not just because Chrono was in his adult form (which she'd only had brief glimpses of, usually during battles) and Rosette's hair was shorter, her eyes more gray than blue. There was something different about their expressions, the way they stood, even the way they spoke. "What happened, you have to tell me everything!"

* * *

_Tuesday, July 15, 1930_

Shader floated up to her chin in a basin set into the floor filled with a translucent blue gel. There wasn't an inch of skin on her body that wasn't bruised. Her nose had been flattened, her ears shredded and her ribs broken. Her arms, legs, fingers and even toes had been pieced back together and splinted. Her skull had been cracked, her lip split, and her face was so swollen and distorted by bruising that Azmaria hadn't even recognized her at first. "Is-is she going to live?" Azmaria asked, horrified.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Rosette said quietly. "The biggest complication is that she doesn't have horns--but there are ways around that."

"Not as bad--" Azmaria said. "She looks half dead!" _How could you let them do this to her? _Azmaria wanted to shout, but didn't. She could forgive Joshua for his part in the horror of last year, he hadn't been in his right mind. Shader on the other hand... It would take a true saint to be able to forgive the demon for the things she had done, and Azmaria wasn't one, not where Aion was concerned. _Why does seeing her like this make me want to cry?_

"Yer a good kid," Shader's voice rasped. One eye was open, the other swollen shut. The demon laughed, then winced in pain. "Don' get mad at Rosette, kitten. Nothin' she could do 'bout it."

"Don't try to talk, Shader," Rosette said.

"Not th' boss o' me," Shader mumbled.

Rosette knelt down, and tilted Shader's chin with one hand, forcing the demon to meet her gaze. "You're Joshua's friend, that makes you my responsibility," she said.

Shader laughed, and winced again. "N-not my Queen," she said. "Anythin' I do, 's for Joshua."

"That's good enough," Rosette said, and stood back up. "I'll wait for you outside," she said, and left the room.

Azmaria stood, frozen and uncertain. She had mostly avoided talking to Shader, all through the time of the demon's stay at the abbey, half in fear, and half in anger. Azmaria hadn't wanted to be the one to hold the geas, hadn't wanted to have anything to do with the demon, or the spell, but Sister Kate and Father--Mister Remington had talked her into it. The desire to _punish_ Shader with the geas had been a horrible temptation for Azmaria, because of that night in San Francisco, when Aion had taken Rosette, when the other Apostles had died. She still had nightmares about it.

It had not been enough though, that Shader seemed truly contrite. Some part of her wanted to hurt Shader, and refused to forgive her, no matter how much Azmaria prayed. She had only used the geas on Shader once, and that once had only been because Shader had deliberately provoked Azmaria into using it. "W-why do you say there wasn't anything she could do?" She asked finally.

"'Cause, hadda happen," Shader said, her voice uneven and strained. Shader's eye flickered shut for a moment. "Most she can do, is say 'don't kill,'" Shader whispered. A painful laugh. "Tradition's a wonderful thing, in't?"

"Why did you come here, if you knew what they'd do to you?" Azmaria asked. Then at Shader's expression of disbelief, quickly said, "Joshua--wouldn't have wanted you to risk yourself."

"Wouldn't _expect_ me to risk m'self," Shader said. "Not s'pposed to, not really. 'M a _tech_. S'pposed to fix stuff, even tho' we're dyin' and th' hull's breached, but we're not s'posed to fight or risk gettin' our ass kicked. Spent too much time wi' soldier-castes I guess." A smile. "Anythin' I do, s'for Joshua. Cadre. You'd walk a gauntlet fer Rosette n'Chrono, right?"

Azmaria didn't have to think about it. "Yes."

"So you don't need t'ask the question. You know why," Shader said.

* * *

_Monday, January 19, 1931_

Annalise Harvenheit was a tall, thin woman of late middle years with a stern appearance. She had arrived dressed in funeral black, a broad brimmed black hat with a short veil of black lace decorated with a fan of black feathers perched on her head. She walked with the aid of a dog-headed men's silver walking cane, and on her left hand she wore a gem-summoner's fingerless gauntlet. After announcing herself, she had been escorted to Sister Kate's office. The braver or more foolhardy sisters listened at the door (truthfully, they didn't need to put their ears to the door, the shouting was clearly audible through the walls) and reported that Frau Harvenheit wanted her niece's remains disinterred immediately, and shipped back to Germany.

The shouting match lasted for quite some time, and at the end of it, Azmaria found herself summoned to the office. "Sister Kate, Frau Harvenheit," Azmaria said with nervous courtesy, bobbing a polite curtsey. The older woman looked even more imposing up close than she had stalking imperiously across the foyer and up to the office.

"So, you are Satella's little angel," Frau Harvenheit said, studying Azmaria intently. "I know of you from her telegrams--did she ever speak of me?"

Azmaria shook her head. "N-no, Frau Harvenheit," Azmaria said. "All we knew was that she was an orphan, she never mentioned any other family."

"There are two cadet branches, one in Austria, the other in the Netherlands. We kept the family business running, while Steiner managed Satella's inheritance," Frau Harvenheit said. "Did she tell you that she made you her heir?"

"No," Azmaria said, stunned. "They said something about a trust fund of some kind, because of my singing though."

"It was a quite bit more than that," the jewel summoner said. "I will explain the details later, and will arrange an appointment with the family lawyer for you. For now, you will take me to see my niece, and you will tell me how she died."

Azmaria sensed it would be a very bad idea to glance at Sister Kate for permission. She curtseyed again. "Of course, Frau Harvenheit," she said, and turned to lead Satella's aunt out of Kate's office.

By the time they reached Satella's grave, Azmaria's head ached from all the questions. Annalise reminded Azmaria of an especially strict voice instructor she'd once had. Stern, critical, and demanding. The older woman's questions were precise, professional in scope, and frequently back tracked to fill out some detail that Azmaria hadn't remembered until that moment.

From the direction the questions tended, it seemed more as if Annalise were a teacher assessing the performance of a former student than a bereaved relative, at least until the jewel summoner saw the headstone. Satella's aunt made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob, her gauntleted hand placed over her heart. "Oh Satella," the woman said softly. "You were too young for such a burden." Annalise knelt, and took out a small chemise bag, dug up a small amount of dirt, placed it in the bag, and tucked it away. She glanced at the flowers that had been placed near Satella's headstone, and frowned. "The flowers, little sister, get rid of them," the jewel summoner said.

"What?" Azmaria said. "Why?"

Annalise gave Azmaria a hard-eyed look. "I am not required to explain myself to you, little sister. Flowers will not be placed on my niece's grave." The little garnet chips in the eyes of the dog-headed cane flashed, as did the garnet set in the gauntlet. Azmaria squeaked in dismayed surprise as the flowers smoldered, blackened, and crumpled into ash. The woman brushed the ash away, and placed smooth green stones in their place. "Jade, malachite, quartz, obsidian, flint, or simple river washed stones are acceptable," she said, and rose to her feet again. "They do not wilt and die."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set up for something I might not even include, but also mentioned in Perfect Mind. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to re-read the manga. Specifically, the scene where Florette (pre-Fiore, pre-Massacre) has a brief discussion with Aion. Then re-read the bit where Satella notices that the flying machines the demons use look a lot like her fish--and then, tell me what I'm hinting at.
> 
> I'm assuming Satella is part of a larger, well to do, merchant class family, and that Steiner was the person named who had control of her inheritance/custody of her until she came of age.


	5. The Op: A Cat Can Look at a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rosette plays at being just plain folks, and Sam is hung over, then embarrassed.

Rao and Sekhet escorted Willis out of the room. He shot me a look that was half worried and half apprehensive as he left the throne room. I almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.

Once Willis was gone, The Kid's big sister stood up, and stepped off the dais. The demons, including Chrono seemed to take this for a dismissal--they left the room without a word, heading toward one of the exits at the back of the room. I stood up as she approached, and took off my hat. I noticed that her eyes were gray and slit-pupilled like a cat's--or like her beau. "So, how is my brother, Mr. Tomlin?" she asked with a slight grin.

"He was fine, the last time I saw him, your Majesty," I said.

"Good. Follow me." She headed out of the room through the same door that Chrono had gone through. She kept up a steady stream of questions I was pretty sure she already knew the answers to, polite chit chat along the lines of talking about the weather.

The next destination turned out to be the Royal Apartment. This was a suite of rooms the equivalent of three city blocks away from the reception hall where Willis had turned over his briefcase. Jazz was playing when we walked in, but I couldn't see where the music was coming from, and the lights came up on their own. The apartment was a nice looking place, but not what you'd call ritzy. Books were scattered over various pieces of furniture, and there were two curio cabinets filled with all sorts of interesting knickknacks, sea shells, figurines and photographs.

"Have a seat," Rosette Christopher said. "Can I get you anything? We have coffee, xocolatl, tea--" She went through a screen of what looked like glass rods, toward what I guessed was probably the kitchen.

"Coffee will be fine, your Majesty," I said. I set my suitcase down, took off my hat, and sat on one of the couches. I tried not to get too comfortable. I was tired, and my head was starting to hurt again. At this point, I was mostly running on curiosity and an iron determination to not yawn.

"'Rosette,' is fine," the Queen called from the direction of the kitchen. I could hear the rattling of dishes, and the smell the coffee brewing. "It's only fair, you call my brother 'The Kid'. And we're out of milk--do you take your coffee black?"

"That'll be fine, Miss Christopher," I said, not quite able to manage the feat of referring to the Queen by her Christian name. The reasons why the Queen of Lemuria is 'Miss Christopher' and not 'Mrs. Chrono the Sinner' are many and complicated. The demons don't precisely have the institution of marriage, don't strictly speaking have surnames. On the human side of things, the jury is still out on whether canoodling with demons constitutes bestiality or miscegenation.

For some reason, it didn't seem right to be on first name basis with royalty, even royalty that didn't act particularly "royal," or even American-style upper class. For a moment I imagined Miss Christopher as a high-society dame, and had to take a deep breath to keep from laughing out loud. The Kid acted more upper class than his sister did, and I wondered how much of the act was deliberate on both their parts, and how much was unintentional.

The glass rods chimed as the Queen reappeared, with two mugs of coffee. She handed one off to me, and sat in a chair cattycorner to mine. "Right now Chrono and the Elders are matching the information you and Willis brought us with the information we've already gathered. I'm listening in on the briefing as I talk to you, so don't think I'm a Dumb Dora if I seem distracted," she said. "It has to do with a technology leak that occurred more than a decade ago."

As she spoke, a column of gold light appeared on top of the coffee table. Joshua used holograms for a lot of his briefings, so I wasn't startled. The image in the column was some sort of huge apparatus hooked up to a glass tube. Inside that tube was a sleeping woman, her dark hair floated in a cloud around her peaceful face. "This is Melda Hendric. Actually, this is her daughter, grown from a single finger recovered after Melda was killed in a bombing during the Great War."

I frowned, somehow that didn't sound quite right. "Her daughter?"

"Definitely her daughter," Miss Christopher said. "Not enough of her body had been recovered, and her mind was completely gone. The device you're looking at is a human built version of what devils call a 'creche-womb' or 'mother.' Melda Hendric was the wife of Ricardo Hendric, a sorcerer who was also a very successful businessman. Lerajie, a demon bound to Ricardo, took advantage of the sorcerer's grief for his wife, and slipped him just enough information regarding demon technology that Ricardo was able to...duplicate his wife's body. Believing that Melda's soul needed to be called back into 'her' body, he adopted under very shady circumstances a girl with great power. The girl's name was Azmaria Hendric, an Apostle. Lerajie's actual plan was to use Azmaria's powers to restore his own, and break free from Ricardo Hendric. Chrono and I were the ones who rescued Azmaria and killed Lerajie."

The image in the gold column became the image of a pretty young woman with white-pink hair dressed in a Madgalen habit. I'd seen this girl before, a much younger version, in the group shot picture on The Kid's desk. "This is Azmaria Hendric today. She was raised to first class five years ago, and transferred to the Dublin branch of the Magdalen Order. She occasionally works with our European operatives, and the Order uses her as a emissary when they want something from us. Five months ago, she disappeared in Prague."

Five months ago, the Germans had marched into Czechoslovakia and taken over. Things were getting ugly in Europe, and it was only a matter of time before war finally broke out. "Did the Magdalens give any details about circumstances ma'am?" I asked.

Miss Christopher shook her head. "They didn't know any more than we did--which was almost nothing." Her eyes went unfocussed for a moment, and she sat very still. It was more than a little unnerving. I was just about to ask her if she was all right when she came back from where ever she went inside her head. "We've just confirmed that it was an abduction," she said. "Herself and the people she was staying with."

"Any possible motive, ma'am?" I asked, just like she was one of my old clients. What would the kidnappers have wanted from a Madgalen Order exorcist and her hosts?

"Have you heard of a bounty hunter named Hexen der Juwel?"

I nodded, frowning a little at the seeming switch in subject. Satella Harvenheit, otherwise known as The Jewel Witch, had gotten her training working for the Pinkerton agency for a couple years, before striking out on her own. She was probably the first Pinkerton agent, former or otherwise, to ever have an obituary in the high society rags. Not much else had been known about her, except that she was loaded, and specialized in breaking occult smuggling rings, and she was a mojo-worker. No one even knew how she died, except that it had been during the Crusader Riots in '29. Wait a minute. "The picture in The Kid's office, the group picture in front of the fountain--the deb's Harvenheit, right?" Harvenheit had been a jewel-summoner, hence her nickname, the tall girl to the right of Miss Christopher was wearing what could have been a summoner's gauntlet.

"She was a friend," Rosette Christopher said. "She had come to America, looking for her sister. Me, Chrono and Azmaria met her when we found ourselves on the same case." The Queen grinned, and for a moment, looked like the kid she must have been nine years ago. "Things were a little bumpy at first--" Rosette Christopher's eyes went strange again. "Sorry, comment from the peanut gallery," she said, and continued with the story. "We eventually realized we were on the same side, and started working together. Satella put Azmaria in her will, and Satella's relatives kept in contact with Azmaria."

She started to go into something about the disappearances and (outright arrests in some cases) of occultists in in Germany, and why Azmaria's Harvenheit connections, and her secondary connection to Ricardo Hendric might have made her a target. Rosette stopped talking as I yawned. "Scuse me," I said, rubbing my mouth with the back of my hand. Despite the coffee, I felt as if I'd just had an all-nighter. Which I had.

"Long night?" Miss Christopher asked sympathetically. "Joshua said he was pulling you off of your current case. You should probably get some sleep."

"There was a wake," I said blankly. I knew that she knew I was still nursing a hangover, and that was almost as embarrassing as the yawning. "I haven't gotten sloshed in a long time."

"I know, Sam," she said, and set her cup down. "Let's get you to your room." She took me by the arm and steered me into a little bedroom with a picture of a small lake. There was a sort of stone outcropping leaning out over the water, and the figure of a boy sitting cross-legged on the rock, looking out over the water. It looked real, like I was looking out a window, almost, and not a picture. "There's a washroom over there," she said indicating a doorway.

"But--" I wasn't sure what my objection was going to be, just that I had one. I fumbled off my hat and coat, and sat down on the bed. The mattress didn't look very thick, but it felt really comfortable, though nothing at all like a box spring.

"Go to sleep, Sam," she said.

So I did. It didn't even occur to me to question how I'd gone from "Mr. Tomlin" to "Sam." I dreamed about a picnic beside a lake with Beth and Junior.

When I woke up again, I was feeling much more human. I sat up, and rubbed the grit out of my eyes. I could hear voices, and smell food cooking--my stomach chose that moment to remind me that I hadn't been able to eat much dinner. The picture on the wall now showed the wind carved towers and arches of the mountains of northern Arizona. I slipped into the washroom, straightened my clothes as best I could, and splashed cold water on my face before following the voices (and the smell of pancakes and sausage) to their source.

Chrono, The Queen and a blond man in a Magdalen Order uniform were sitting around a long oval table in the dining room. The Queen standing, leaning forward in a way that suggested she was seriously considering hauling off and decking the guy. "--And you're just telling us this now?" The Queen was saying to the blond. She was giving the guy a glare that would have peeled paint, but the blond's smile didn't fade.

"The nature of a secret mission is that it's secret, Rosette," he pointed out.

The Queen flushed red, and much to my surprise, sat back down. "Dammit Ewan, she's just a _kid!"_

"So were you," Ewan pointed out. "In fact, you were even younger than she is now."

"That's different, I had Chrono!" The Queen shot back. "He kept me out of trouble!"

"When exactly was I ever able to do that?" Chrono asked.

"Lots of times," The Queen said. "Think of what it would have been like if you hadn't been there."

"Now that is a frightening thought," Ewan said teasingly.

I knew if I didn't step forward soon, it would look like I had been eavesdropping (which was true, but actually looking like it would have been embarrassing.) I walked into the dining room, and sort of stood there a moment. By the glances my way, I knew that Chrono and the Queen had known I was there. The blond seemed slightly surprised though. "Good morning, ma'am," I said to Rosette with a slight nod. I gave Chrono another nod. "Hello sir." I gave the Magdalen guy a nod too.

"Morning, have a seat," the Queen said. "There's enough for everybody. Ewan, this is Samuel Tomlin, one of my operatives. Sam, this is Ewan Remington, of the Magdalen Order Militia."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Remington," I said. Sam again. I looked a question at her and Chrono. They didn't look like they planned on answering it. I shook hands with Ewan, and I sat down at a empty place setting to Chrono's left. I snagged a couple pancakes and sausages, and poured myself some coffee.

"Likewise Mr. Tomlin, I've heard a great deal about you," Ewan said. "From both Joshua and Chrono."

"Oh?" I asked. From the conversation I'd heard, he obviously knew Chrono and Miss Christopher from when they were working for the Order. Apparently he was also close to The Kid, though I'd never seen him at the Embassy. The Magdalens that usually showed up were a trio of sisters (who played yenta, trying to set him up with their cousins) on social occasions, a minister from the Militia for official occasions, and random couriers for all other occasions.

"Well, I've heard you've quite the way with words," Ewan said. "Particularly when explaining...precedence."

I looked at him, debating if I could get away with asking him if he could vague his explanation up any more than he already had. Then Chrono said helpfully, "Three years ago. Jason Stone."

"Jason--" The nutcase that tried to kill Chrono. The nutcase Chrono took out without even breaking a sweat, and before me or The Kid could even go for our guns. Right in front of a bunch of reporters and public officials._ "Not that I'm ungrateful, but I'm supposed to be guarding your ass, not the other way around! Now I'm gonna go see how the hell the stupid bastard got past security, in the meantime, stay right where you are!"_ I think most of the room had been shocked by my tirade, except for The Kid, and the demon himself. Later I'd been embarrassed, but Chrono hadn't seemed to care, and that part of the incident never made it into the papers. And this guy knew about it. _Urk._

"Let's get back on track here," Rosette Christopher said. "Ewan, what can you tell us about Azmaria's mission?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terms Used
> 
> Miscegenation: a stupid word invented by stupid people. It refers to "the mixing of the races." Sam however is not being racist when he uses this term.
> 
> Bestiality: Chrono is not (entirely) human, even with a human mother. Even the folks not bothered by Chrono being a couple shades darker would be disturbed by the whole non-human supposed archetype of evil thing.
> 
> Crusader Riots: Something as wide spread as these riots appeared to be from the anime would have given them their own name and place in history.
> 
> Mojo:Hoodoo, magic, may or may not also refer to Western or Eastern occultism. Usually refers to the home-grown American variety of folk magic. No relation to a certain yellow blob from the Marvelverse. Nothing to do with Austen Powers or Jim Morrison
> 
> Ewan is apparently demoted from Father to some kind of lay-member. He's still fairly highly placed though.
> 
> Sam would like to point out it's really hard to figure out how to refer to your boss when all of his "last names" are epithets. "Mr. Sinner" just sounds really stupid. He basically gave up, and started referring to Chrono by first name, or "sir" because he couldn't pull off "Master" or "my Lord."
> 
> Another note: Oddly enough for the time, when the Pinkerton Agency first started in 1850s, the company founder Allan Pinkerton hired female agents, something very unusual for the time. While I don't believe they hired women agents during the 20s or 30s in the real world, I decided to give Satella a background as an agent.


	6. The Magus: You Remind Me of the Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the past is prolog.

_ Nine Years Ago _

The lights were bright yellow and green, twisting into nausea inducing patterns. Joshua curled up on the floor, breathless with pain, trying not to throw up. Distantly he could hear the fury of the gauntlet Shader was walking, and the concerned voices of Chrono and Rosette. "What happened?" Rosette asked someone he couldn't see.

"He tried to use Chrono's horns," a familiar voice replied. Gilgamesh.

"But Chrono's horns--"

"Are gone, yes," Gilgamesh replied calmly. "But the impulse to use them when distressed, has not. You should not have brought him here, Rosette Christopher," the physician said in a disapproving tone.

"I brought myself," Joshua croaked. His vision was clearing, though everything he saw seemed surrounded by a yellow-green corona. _I don't need to be protected anymore! _A hand touched his the side of his head, and Joshua flinched away.

"Master Joshua--" Gilgamesh began.

"Don't call me that," Joshua snapped.

"My apologies, Mr. Christopher," Gilgamesh said. "Allow me to examine you." The hand returned, gently tracing the sensitive area where the horns had been. It was like and unlike Shader's examinations in that the physician asked the same questions Shader would have, but unlike Shader, the physician didn't go off on tangents explaining what she was doing and why. "I don't think you've done any lasting damage," the physician said. "You should return to your sister's quarters and rest."

"No. I have to be here for her, even if I can't do anything to help her," Joshua said. "Rosette was allowed to protect Chrono," Joshua muttered, unable to keep the resentment from his voice. He might not have the power of the horns, or the powers of an Apostle anymore, but he was good with a sword, he could protect her from the worst of the blows at least.

"Was _able_to protect Chrono," Gilgamesh corrected. "If she had been unable to do so for whatever reason, things would have gone much differently." The devil reached into the folds of his robe and retrieved a bottle of pills, which he handed to Joshua. "Take one of these, they're chewable. They should help your headache."

In the gauntlet, Shader had finally broken through to the other side, dragging her body free of the double line of demons. With a cry that was half triumph, half relief, Shader collapsed in a dead faint. Joshua tried to get up and go to her--then fell back down when the room started spinning. Joshua fumbled the bottle open and took a pill, watching as the demons who had been beating her to a pulp only moments before worked to keep her from dying. "Why do this at all?" Joshua asked. "I don't understand why you're letting them do this to her."

"I tried to keep this from happening," Rosette said. "I didn't want to see this happen to her Joshua, I really didn't. I know--I know you care about her, but--" She fell silent.

"Shader asked for this," Chrono said, and extended a hand to help Joshua to his feet. "This is the only way her caste will accept her--take her back."

Joshua let himself be pulled to his feet, balancing against Chrono's side until he could get his balance. "She's a Sinner," he protested. She had been safe with the Madgalen Order. Why hadn't she stayed with them? He'd told her to stay behind, but she'd come anyway. "A defector. Why would she_want _them to do this to her?"

"To stay with you, Mr. Christopher," Gilgamesh said. "To not only stay with you, but to be the one responsible for your medical care."

It felt as if his heart were being squeezed. _Rosette wanted to be a doctor to take care of me, _Joshua thought numbly. _Fiore died trying to obey a directive to get me to Aion if we were captured. Chrono-- _Rosette smacked him. "Ow!" Joshua rubbed his head and glared at Rosette, who glared back. "What was that for?"

"There is nothing wrong with needing to be taken care of," Rosette growled, and stalked away toward one of the elders supervising the aftermath of the gauntlet.

For a moment, he was confused, but Chrono murmured, "she heard your thoughts through me." With a pang of guilt, Joshua started after Rosette, but Chrono held him back. "No, let her cool off a little," he said.

"I-I didn't mean," Joshua faltered.

"She knows," Chrono said, and smiled. "Actually, you should be pleased. Rosette only hits the people she cares about if she thinks they can take it."

* * *

_ Present  _

"Mister Christopher, you have to do something about that girl of yours," the housekeeper said when Joshua returned to his quarters in the morning. Most of the night had been spent in meetings. He'd fallen asleep at his desk while reading reports, and had been chased out of the office by his secretary when she found him face down in a case file. Joshua thought Emma couldn't be _too _put out with Shader if she were calling the demon, "that girl," and not, "that limb of Satan."

"What has she done now?" Joshua asked, taking off his coat and hanging it on the coat tree. Shader was sitting in a chair, arms crossed under her breasts with her ears back, sulking like a scolded child.

"She's teaching Jake how to gamble," Emma said with a thunderous look of disapproval in the demon's direction.

"As a mathematical exercise!" Shader protested. "As an introduction to statistics!"

Joshua sighed, and rubbed his face with one hand. It was too early in the morning to be having to deal with something like this. "Shader, remember that conversation we had about comparative morality? This applies."

"But I tell him not to gamble because Emma doesn't approve of gambling!" Shader said plaintively.

Plainly, the housekeeper wasn't impressed by this. "Hmph." Emma gave the demon an irritated look, and smoothed her skirt. "I haven't made breakfast yet, because I wasn't sure if you'd want to sleep in a little first or not, Mr. Christopher. Is there anything I can get you?"

"A cinnamon roll, and a cup of coffee will be fine, Emma," Joshua said. "I'll be in the study." Emma nodded, and went toward the kitchen.

Shader followed him into the study. Bookcases lined the walls of the room from floor to ceiling. There was a small round table in the middle of the room, and two chairs in opposite corners of the room. Light came from Tiffany ceiling lamps, because this room had no windows. "So, what's the verdict?" She asked, sitting at the table.

"Consult with Emma before creating a lesson plan?" Joshua asked, rummaging through the books for the one he was looking for.

Shader hissed. "That's not what I meant. What's going on with the Azmaria thing?"

"It was a Vril Society action," Joshua said. "She was in Prague, maybe they thought she was trying to activate the Golem."

Shader's ears flicked back, and her tail lashed. "That's not even close to funny, Joshua."

"I know." Joshua located the book, and two others, and set them all on the table. "I'm afraid for her, Shader. I'm afraid of what the Vril Society might do to _anyone _with the factor."

"They won't be able to isolate it," Shader said. "You're all still way behind on the biological sciences."

"That's even more of a reason to worry. Those people got half their occult training from a science fiction novel, and the other half from a hodge podge of crack pots, demon masters, and snake-oil alchemists. God knows where they got their science--Buck Rogers, probably," Joshua said, skimming through the book in front of him. "Shader, please get my work room ready."

"On it." Shader stood up, and ruffled Joshua's hair as she went out of the room.

After breakfast--Emma having apparently decided to serve Joshua's cinnamon roll with a side of hashbrowns and two eggs--Joshua went to his work room. He took his shoes and socks off before entering the square, windowless room. Light came from candles set in wall sconces. The walls were white, and the floor gray cement. On the east end of the room was the altar, a low wooden table covered with a white cloth.

Joshua crossed the room to the altar, glancing at the artifacts and tools laid out on the table. A bowl of salt, a knife, a sword, feathers that had come from Wakinyan, a little bronze brazier for incense, chalk. There were three beeswax candles, and a silver cup. Joshua clasped his hands and bowed toward the altar. "Let my work today do more good than harm," he murmured before picking up the chalk to draw the circle.

* * *

_ No Time, No Place _

Black sky met black water under a swollen red sun. The waves rolled up on the bone white shore, casting up oddities, only to drag them back. Once it was something like a leather bag with sulfer yellow eyes that flopped along the shore, sides heaving and trembling before lying still. Once it was a skeletal arm tangled with seaweed, bony fingers clutching a rosary. Crablike shapes scuttled along the shoreline, avoiding the hissing waves. Joshua sat on the beach with sand in his shoes, watched the sea, and listened to the wailing cries of web-winged creatures that weren't gulls.

"He's waitin' on you."

Joshua stood, and brushed the sand from his clothes. The speaker was tall and wiry, his face sharp featured and almost ugly. Dark, tilted eyes regarded him mockingly, but also with great wariness. "I'll be up in a minute," Joshua said, and the man was gone.

A meandering trail of footprints wound their way up to the house. Joshua carefully placed his feet in the impressions as he walked up to the house. He passed pits filled with bodies, and a building that had been destroyed--broken walls, staring windows and rubble. Shadows had been burned into the brick--figures crouching or standing with their arms flung up to shield their faces.

A red-haired woman sat on the porch stair with her feet apart and her forearms resting on her thighs. She held an unlit cigarette in one hand, and a half-empty glass of whisky in the other. The woman didn't look up as he approached. Joshua bent to one knee and set a pack of cigarettes and a flask of moonshine at her feet.

When he looked up again, her eyes were focused on his. She gestured with the hand that held the cigarette--he lit it for her. She took a drag, and blew a smoke ring. "You only come here when you want something."

"You're never here when I don't," Joshua replied. He rose to his feet, and went up the stairs. He could hear a piano playing somewhere in the house.

A tall, broad-shouldered man opened the door when he knocked. "You always knock where you are free to enter," the man said, standing aside to let Joshua through.

"I only enter where I'm given leave," Joshua said. He followed the music to its source, down the hall to the music room. The room had a desk, and a couch, a low table in the middle of the room, and an upright piano. It had been modified and tuned to a nonhuman scale, but the music was of human origin.

The man playing the upright piano had long white hair worn in a tail gathered at the nape of his neck, with bangs and wisps of hair hanging loose. He wore a long sleeved white shirt and dark gray slacks. His ears were long and tufted, and his brow bore an inverted triangle of eyespots. The man glanced up, smiled, and made room at the bench for Joshua to sit. "So, now you're the one seeking the Songstress of Vegas," the man said. "Charity is elusive isn't she?"

"What can you tell me?" Joshua asked.

"Not as much as you probably hoped," the man replied. He played a trailing line of notes with his left hand, while the right thumped down discordantly on three keys. "They've probably made good use of the human occultists they've acquired. They may also have defectors." Joshua knew that the man meant, _demons who have defected from Pandaemonium. _Another discordant note. "Given the National Socialist Party's stance against nonhumans, and their definitions thereof, it's most likely not a willing relationship in the case of the latter."

"Azmaria was attempting to confirm that." The man gave Joshua an amused look, as if to say _confirm which, the presence of defectors, or the occultists? _Joshua amended with, "Attempting to confirm the summoning of demons by the Nazis."

"Ah." the man said. "As for the other matter you were concerned about, you might ask the Magdalen Order how they came to lose such a large piece of equipment, and the blueprints too. _They_have defectors as well, you know." The man smiled thinly. "Perhaps they will come to regret their decision, when they discover what they've helped to create."

"What have they created?" Joshua asked.

"Clockwork damnation," the man said. "If you were never born, is it still original sin?"

"No riddles," Joshua said. "No misdirection or games of temptation."

The faintly mocking amusement in the man's demeanor faded. "No, that isn't part of our situation, is it? You've guessed already what they're doing, you don't need me to tell you what you already know." The man covered the keys, and rose from the bench. He walked over to the window and stood with his back to Joshua. "She will want to save them, you realize. So will He."

Joshua shivered, though the room wasn't cold. For a moment the room and the man by the windows disappeared, and he was standing in a playground, watching children play. The children were all of a type, blond and fair. A ball a few of the children were playing catch with slipped out of a boy's hands and bounced toward Joshua, rolling to a stop at his feet. Joshua stooped to pick up the ball, and found himself confronted by a pair of icy, emotionless blue eyes. Joshua handed the child the ball, and found himself back in the room.

"Can they be saved?" Joshua asked. For all that the children had _looked_like human children--none of them had smiled, none of them shouted, none of them laughed or sang or spoke. Their games had been played in complete silence, their expressions blank as a doll's. He hadn't sensed evil from the children, but he hadn't sensed good, either.

The man glanced back, mouth tilting in a smile. "If I said no, do you really think it would stop Them from trying?" He asked, then, "be more careful. That boy actually saw you."

"He won't say anything," Joshua said, though he wasn't sure how he knew. He took a breath, reluctant to say the words that would end this meeting. The man turned with an expectant look in his eyes. Joshua silently mouthed the name he wouldn't speak. "I won't tell you your duty."

"And I won't question your mission."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terms Used, Trivia
> 
> Vril: Once upon a time there was science fiction novel called Vril: The Power of the Coming Race, which had been written by Edward Bulwer Lytton (yes, THAT Edward Bulwer-Lytton) Unfortunately the very very VERY stupid early 19th century precursors of the modern New Age movement(s) got a hold of it and decided it was Real, and connected it with Atlantis and other Weird Mystical Occult Things. Some of them were Nazis.
> 
> Buck Rogers: Comic strip/pulp hero of the 1930s, not the 1980's version. Horribly horribly horribly racist (by modern standards).
> 
> Limb of Satan: Sounds like a vaguely Arabian Nights type epithet, don't it? It's not.
> 
> Gauntlet: in this case, a ritual penance or trial-by-ordeal.
> 
> Golem of Prague: Famous legendary/mythical man of clay built to defend the Jewish ghetto from rampaging Christians. Azmaria being Portuguese, it would be Highly Ironic if she had been trying to activate the Golem. (Trust me on this.)
> 
> As usual, multiple sf novel shout outs. Get them all and you'll win...well, you won't win anything, but I'll be VERY impressed.


	7. The Op: Modest Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Chrono have a talk, and we find out the roots of the conflict between Sam and Willis.

After breakfast, the Queen took charge of Remington, and I ended up taking a walk with Chrono in an indoor garden. My head was spinning from the details of the case. Missing medical technology, kidnapped Apostles and eugenics programs were more than I could handle this early in the day.

"Tell me about Michael Willis," Chrono said, sitting down on a low stone bench in front of an ornamental pool full of lilypads, fish, frogs and cattails.

I was pretty sure Chrono knew everything from Willis' shoe size to his grades in high school, so I asked, "what do you want to know about him, sir?"

"Joshua's reports have been rather sketchy on the details surrounding the conflict between yourself and Willis," Chrono said. "'Willis is a stupid frigging redbaiter,' really doesn't tell me anything."

"The Kid said that?" I asked, a little startled. Christopher's reports weren't usually that succinct.

Chrono smiled briefly. "Rosette's interpretation."

"Oh." I was tempted to say something along the lines of _well, that's about the long and short of it, sir, _but didn't. "Willis doesn't like my politics," I said instead. "I won't say I have Communist sympathies, but I definitely support the unionization of trades and industry."

"You were a strike-breaker, however." Chrono pointed out.

"That would be why I think unions are a good idea sir," I said. The strikers had been fighting for better working conditions and for money so they could feed their families. The owners had been fighting to keep their wallets fat--who would you side with?

"And this is why Willis has interfered with your missions in the past?" Chrono asked.

_And tapped my phone, harassed my wife, and generally made himself a goddamned nuisance._"Yes sir. That, and I'm working for a foreign power and he thinks I'm gonna infect the People of Pandaemonium with communism." When he wasn't thinking I was going to turn decent God-fearing Americans into Satanists, that is. How he thought I was going to do either, I didn't know.

"I don't see you as the type to hand out pamphlets," Chrono said, amused. "I'm asking because Willis has certain talents that might be useful to us. That's why he was the one sent with the information we needed."

That was interesting. It looked like there was more going on under the table between the U.S. and Lemuria than I'd thought. "What kind of talents, sir?" I asked.

"Like you, he's immune to the Crusader Complex," Chrono said. "He's also a sensitive, though he hasn't been trained."

I was a little surprised by that. I would have included Willis in the percentage of the population most likely to get infected--the type who sees everything in terms of black and white, without any shades of gray between. Crusader goes right for your sense of moral outrage, and the next thing you know you're beating the hell out of people you don't like the looks of in the name of righteousness. "Is Crusader going to be a problem where we're going?" I asked. As far as I knew, Crusader hadn't spread overseas. At least, I hadn't heard of any sudden outbreaks of miracles and visions in Europe.

Chrono shrugged. "The spell can be duplicated, and we're concerned about the things we've been hearing."

"Sir, most people don't need a spell to make them do crazy things," I pointed out.

"I realize that," Chrono said with a slight smile. "I could probably tell you stories about it. Would you be able to work with Willis?"

"I can work with just about anybody," I said. "I don't know if Willis would be able to work with me. Who else is going to be going on this mission, sir?"

"Myself, and Joshua," Chrono said. "As well as three vicounts. Joshua will be meeting us at McMurdo Embassy. From there, we're going to Paris, and then Berlin, as a diplomatic mission."

"War by other means, huh?" I asked, mangling the Clausewitz quote.

"Something like that," Chrono said. "We're hoping we can persuade them to turn Azmaria over to us. It isn't likely though, and we can't afford to be neutral."

I nodded. "We're going to be spread pretty thin." The population of Lemuria was tiny in comparison to most of the other countries. I realized that Chrono was giving me an odd look. Startled, but also amused. "Sir?"

"You said 'we', not 'Lemuria,' or 'your people.' You included yourself in the 'we.'" Chrono pointed out. "It's strange to hear that from a human, except for Rosette and Joshua."

"Oh," I said, feeling vaguely embarrassed. I wasn't sure if there was anything to it, but I tried to remember if I'd ever heard any of my fellow operatives used 'we' that way. "That's probably where I got it from then, The Kid."

"Probably," Chrono agreed with a slight smile.

* * *

About nine years ago, The Kid called me up on the phone. He wanted to thank me for helping Shader find him, and to offer me a job. I almost said no. The newspapers weren't very informative about whatever it had been that had blown up large parts of San Francisco, but I had suspicions that The Kid and his boss were probably at the center of the whole mess. To make things even more complicated, my wife Beth was in the state mental hospital, and I was trying to take care of our daughter on my own.

Still, I felt I owed The Kid, and decided to at least hear him out. He sent me tickets, so I left my daughter with my sister, and took a train to New York. Joshua met me at the station, in the company of two gentlemen in suits who turned out to be demons. One was a very sour looking guy named Ardath, and the other was Elder-Physician Gilgamesh.

At the Embassy, Joshua filled me in on everything his old boss had been up to, and how his sister had been looking for him for four years. I heard all about his sister and her partner, who were now rulers of the brand new country of Lemuria, and how they had defeated Ian and rescued him. (I also discovered that I'd been hearing and pronouncing the guy's name wrong since forever. The name of The Kid's old boss was Aion, rhyming with fie on, not Ian, rhyming with lyin'.)

He thanked me for helping Shader find him and made his sales pitch, ending with, "You'd essentially be doing the same things you did for Aion."

"That would be the sticking point," I said, glancing at the demons. They hadn't said much during the whole conversation, mostly just asking questions, or clarifying something The Kid had said.

Ardath ruffled a little at my comment. "Our goals are not those of the Sinner Aion," the demon said in an offended tone. "You will be investigating human sorcerers and gathering information against devil masters. Lemuria intends to work closely with private and foreign government agencies to apprehend those we also consider criminals."

It was a pretty little speech, and I almost said as much, but The Kid interjected. "Mr. Tomlin, I don't blame you for being wary. That's just common sense. I made the suggestion to Master Gilgamesh about approaching you for a job because I feel that I owe you a great deal."

"How do you figure that?" I asked. "If anything, it's the other way around." The Kid had saved my life after all.

"I was part of something terrible, Mr. Tomlin. We both were. Your wife is in an institution because of what happened to me and my sister. Thousands are dead or insane from something that's contagious as any disease, but which can't be cured by human science."

"There's a cure?" It's weird how you can feel anger and hope at the same time. I was angry, because it seemed like I was being offered this in exchange for my services--and at the same time, I was desperate for a way to get my poor Beth back. I didn't kid my self that she'd be able to go back to being the woman I married, but I wanted her to at least be someone I could be married to, instead of a raving madwoman. I didn't know whether to sign over my soul or throw the implied offer back into The Kid's face.

"A possible cure," Gilgamesh said. "We're still in the experimentation stage. But yes, there will soon be a cure. This is in no way contingent upon your decision to work for us, we'll be giving the--protocols is the best way to put it, because the form the cure takes will most likely be a spell, not antibiotics or an antivirus--to the Madgalen Order for distribution."

I didn't quite believe that, but at that point I was willing to try just about anything. I sent for Beth and Beth Junior, and we ended up spending nearly a year at this little farm in New Jersey. The Kid visited every few days, along with Shader. He never tried to talk me into signing up, and I got to know him pretty well. We talked about baseball, mostly, or books and movies.

They got Beth off the sedatives the hospital had used to keep her and the other Crusaders quiet, and put her on something that made her a lot more lucid. You still had to watch her like a hawk, but at least she wasn't carving on herself or having fits and visions. The spell or "protocol" worked on her, though the Madgalen sisters who administered it thought that it had failed until I explained that Beth had disliked nuns _before _she'd been effected by Crusader. (As a result of having spent three years in an orphanage with extremely strict sisters who had a bad habit of beating misbehaving kids with broom handles then locking them in closets.)

A few weeks after the Madgalen Order doctors pronounced Beth cured, I went to see if the job Joshua had offered was still open.

* * *

When we arrived at the American section of the Embassy we met with Joshua who was talking to the ambassador for the U.S., a sharp dressing ex-Senator with a slight Tennesee twang. Greetings were exchanged, and Chrono asked about the whereabouts of Willis, who wasn't present. "Mr. Willis spent most of the night being briefed on the mission," the ambassador said.

"Has he accepted the mission?" Chrono asked. "If he's unwilling, we can use someone else."

"On such short notice, my Lord?" Joshua asked, going into formal mode. Watching Chrono and Joshua work together was a little like watching an excruciatingly polite version of Good Cop, Bad Cop.

"Mr. Willis realizes the urgency of the situation, Lord Chrono, Mr. Christopher," the ambassador said.

"Does he?" Joshua asked, and then glanced my way. "Mr. Tomlin?"

I straightened up, and touched the brim of my hat. "Yessir?"

"We'll be speaking to the ambassador. Could you find Mr. Willis and fill him in on any details pertinent to the mission?"

"Yessir," I said, and headed off to look for Willis like a good henchman.

Willis was in one of the Embassy dining rooms, poking at what was either a late breakfast, or an early lunch. He looked up, and his eyes narrowed a little when he saw me. He didn't say anything though, when I sat down opposite him. "You got any questions about the mission, Willis?" I asked.

"I've been briefed," Willis said shortly.

"So you already know how two guys who don't speak German are going to be learning German?" I asked. Willis gave me a blank look. "German," I said. "You know, the language spoken where we're going?"

That got me a dirty look. "I didn't think of it," he said grudgingly. "I'd heard they have some kind of translator device, though."

"We'll probably use that at first, but they have ways to teach people languages--teach them faster than they'd learn 'em normally," I said. I looked around the dining room, which was pretty full for this time of the day. "Look Willis, I don't really care about your beef with me, and I can deal with my beef with you, but we need to work together on this, and I need to know that you're going to be able to take orders from The Kid or from the boss."

"Not from you?"

"Is that really a sticking point?" I asked. "I tell you to do something, and you'll stick your fingers in your ears?"

"This is a lot to have to deal with, all right?" Willis growled. "I never--" he cut himself off. "I can work with you, and I guess I can take orders."

"But you don't have to like it," I said, and held out my hand. He looked at me for a moment, then took my hand, and we shook on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terms Used
> 
> Crusader: Someone who has been affected by the spell Aion used on Rosette to inspire riots and religious hysteria. (What I'm basically describing is a meme or earworm...with teeth.) Or the "disease" itself. It's infectious and the most common symptoms are religious hysteria, a conviction that the victim is a holy warrior being victimized/martyred by the evil and immoral, and a strong desire to right percieved wrongs through violence. This is usually followed by self-mutilation, increasing paranoia, and hallucinations.
> 
> Redbaiter: Someone guilty of accusing someone else of Communist Sympathies.
> 
> Eugenics: An attempt to weed "bad blood" out of the gene pool. Sadly, this movement where it appeared during the 20s and 30s was bigotted, racist, moronic and usually inhumane, as the criteria for "bad blood" was often based on bullcrap instead of hard science.
> 
> Strike-breaker: Someone (either private agencies or the police) who harass (and in a few notable cases, kill) union leaders and make the lives of the strikers generally miserable until they give up the strike. What usually happened was that the strike would turn violent, and people would end up dead or in jail.


	8. The Angel: Gemini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find out what has happened to Azmaria, and in which Azmaria uncovers new mysteries.

_ Nine Years Ago _

Rosette and Chrono were in a meeting, and Joshua was with Shader, leaving Azmaria to her own devices. After reading a couple chapters of Tom Sawyer she started to feel a little restless. And curious. The walk between the gate terminus and the apartment had been a blur; she had been too full of conflicting emotions to really see what was around her.

_It should be all right, if I don't go very far from the apartment, _she thought. Locating a pen and a piece of paper, she wrote a short note before leaving the apartment.

There was an unfinished look to Mu. Everywhere Azmaria looked, something was in the process of being constructed or installed. Demons of every size and description rushed about on what looked like important errands. If they spoke, or communicated in some way, it wasn't aloud--they conducted their tasks in what was nearly total silence. Occasionally, groups of them would abruptly stop working and walk away, to be replaced by a new group. Outside of an anthill, Azmaria had never seen anything quite like it.

After walking for perhaps five minutes, she found herself in a small courtyard with a fountain at its center. On one wall, was an incomplete mural, roughly sketched, except for two figures in the foreground. Two male demons stood back to back, hands clasped and arms bound by a flowering vine. In their opposite hand each carried a sword held point upward. Surrounding them was the suggestion of a battle, rough outlines that hadn't yet been filled in.

They were both gold-eyed and dark skinned, with sharp, angular features. Their ridged horns were long and swept back, ivory at the base and black at the tips. Their expressions reflected both fierce determination, and sadness, as if they knew they were about to be defeated. A third, female figure with wings had been sketched in above them, her hands reaching for the sun in a dancer's pose.

"They are the Brothers who will sleep until the end of the universe," a familiar voice said.

Azmaria turned to face the demon. "Hello Mister Gilgamesh," she said, managing to keep her voice even. He seemed to be very close to Rosette, and a very important person, so she tried to be polite, though he made her very uncomfortable. He reminded her of both Duffau and Lerajie, though he looked like neither of them. His face was more square and broad, and his skin tone was warmer than Duffau's gray-white--closer to Shader's color.

"Good afternoon, Miss Hendric," Gilgamesh with a slight bow. "I was hoping for a chance to speak with you."

"W-with me? Why?"

"You are the friend of Rosette Christopher and the Ignoble One," the demon said, and sat down on a nearby bench. "You are the friend of their brother, and you hold the Sinner Shader under a geas." A pause. "You also bear the name of the sorcerer Ricardo Hendric."

"He adopted me, and my name was changed," Azmaria said. "There-there really hasn't been time to have it changed back." She wasn't even sure about how to go about doing it.

"There are those who were uncertain whether or not your choice of name reflected some form of allegiance with the sorcerer," Gilgamesh said.

Azmaria shuddered, horrified by the thought. "No he was--" A horrible man. A sad and horrible man twisted by his love for his wife, and by Lerajie's lies and deception. Even knowing that, she couldn't imagine how or why he could have done the things he had done. _If she returns to life, she will be your adopted mother. _"He murdered the only family I had. I don't think I could ever forgive him for that."

"You hold him responsible, and not your wings?" Gilgamesh said.

"If I hadn't had my wings, he would have left me and the orchestra alone," Azmaria said.

Gilgamesh tilted his head slightly. "Can you be sure of that, Songstress of Vegas? Your performances were quite a draw, by all accounts. 'Child prodigy,' I believe the term is."

"I'm sure," Azmaria said, flushing slightly. "His interest was in the power, not my singing." She was reminded of the things Duffau had said to her, and of Rosette sending her out of the room. She remembered the deaths of the other Apostles--and the guilt of having survived._I am allowed to live._

The demon smiled. "Duffau did not intend to be cruel, by the things he said. Or not entirely. He was testing you, and testing Rosette Christopher."

"Why?" Azmaria asked, unnerved by the demon's comment. It had been almost as if he'd responded to her thoughts.

"Because you were children, and he didn't know your strengths," Gilgamesh said. "There are other reasons as well, but that was the primary one. He tested Rosette's wisdom. She could have become angry, or been insulted--she might have attacked Duffau outright for his words to you, but she didn't. She sent you out of the room, and away from Duffau instead. This told him that Rosette would do what was necessary to succeed. Your test was one of courage. In order to pass, you needed to overcome your fear and sense of guilt for the burden you call causality."

* * *

_ Present _

The prison was an old castle, but aside from that, Azmaria wasn't sure where she was, she wasn't even sure how long she had been here. She didn't know where Geoffrey and Mathilde had been taken to and she worried about them constantly. Even though she knew that they had been willing to accept the risks of helping her with her investigation, she hated that she hadn't been able to protect them when Vril society sorcerers and their familiars invaded their home.

The prison was divided into a men's side and a women's side, and somewhere there were laboratories for whatever experiments the Vril Society doctors were performing. Miasma seemed to shroud the prison, causing a nearly perpetual headdache. Prisoners who were particularly sensitive to the miasma or the wards that barely kept it in place often collapsed and had to be carried back to their cells.

Twice a day the prisoners were lined up and made to march around the castle grounds. After being marched, there was a meal--a watery cabbage or potato soup with a small loaf of bread that seemed to be mostly sawdust. All of the days ran together in a bleak haze of shouting guards, hard beds, hunger, and interrogations that sometimes went on for hours. So far she had managed not to reveal anything they didn't all ready know, but she wasn't sure how long that would last. Other times, she was hooked up to machines while Vril Society doctors conducted strange experiments and rituals that reminded her of when she had been living at the Melda Hotel.

She shared a room with six other women. Two were mediums, three were astrologers, and one was a sorceress. The mediums were often taken away by the guards, and when they returned, they were usually unconscious, bleeding from burst capillaries around the eyes. "They have plenty of sorcerers and astrologers," the sorceress, a Russian woman named Irene said. "But not so many mediums. The real ones, the good ones, they are too unstable, yes? Crazy. So they were killed. Now they try to find a way to make mediums useful despite being crazy."

"You don't know that for certain," Ibronka, one of the astrologers said angrily. Ibronka was helping to clean up the mediums, and make them more comfortable. One of the mediums, a German girl named Katherine had awakened, and was curled up in a shivering ball in her bunk, the other, an older woman named Elizabeth was still unconscious.

"That mediums are crazy, or that German sanitariums are slaughterhouses?" Irene said with a malicious smile.

"Irene, Ibronka, please don't start," Helena, on of the other astrologers begged. "You'll bring the guard in here again."

"Hmph. I wonder what's being done to them?" She asked, changing the subject slightly. She glanced over at Azmaria. "You're the only one beside them in this room who gets tested. why are they like this?"

"I don't know," Azmaria said. "I don't think they're getting the same tests I am though." If they were being tested. "I can't think of anything that would cause hemmoraghing, at least." _Irene said they were using mediums, or at least they wanted 'useful' mediums. What would they be using mediums for?_

* * *

_ No Time, No Place _

The sun was bright on the waves crashing across the sand, the wind was cool, and the sun was warm on her back. Azmaria sat on the beach with sand in her shoes and watched the sea roll in. She had been frightened before, or angry, but those feelings seemed far away now. The sound of the waves filled her head, erasing everything. Further up the beach was a house with gabled windows and a porch. She could hear music coming from the house, a piano. After a long time, she became aware that someone was watching her. She turned, and saw a boy of perhaps ten watching her.

"These are not your symbols," the boy said in German. His voice was strangely monotone, as cold and emotionless as the expression on his face. He was a pale child with fair hair that was nearly white, and gray eyes. He looked as if he were just going off to school with a bundle of books at his feet, and a lunch pail. "Were you looking for him to?"

"I don't know what you mean," Azmaria said. "Or who."

The boy handed her a book, leather bound with gilt pages. Azmaria took it, somewhat reluctantly, and opened it. The words were a tangle of blurry letters and hieroglyphics, except for a single phrase, this is not a book. Azmaria looked from the words on the page, to the boy. This was a place where the language of one's subconscious was manifest. _I'm in someone's dream? Or dreaming someone else's dream--what a strange thought. _

"These are his symbols--the waves and the sand. The noise that causes no pain, and the house on the beach," the boy said.

The noise--for some reason, Azmaria was reminded of Joshua. The noise was what he had called the telepathic feedback that had caused him such pain when he had worn Chrono's horns. "Why are you looking for him?" She asked. Was the boy looking for Joshua? And if so, why?

"There was only us, and then we saw him," the boy said. "Now we see you. There are others?"

A chill went through Azmaria at the innocent sounding question. "There are others," Azmaria said.

"Are they like us?" The boy asked.

"I-I don't know. What are you?" _There was only us, and then we saw him. _This boy wasn't human, not entirely, Azmaria realized. _A demon or some other entity? _They were just beginning to learn the differences between the Legion-based demons who had come from some far star thousands of years ago, and the entities and forces that lived within the astralline, a half-step away from normal reality. The idea that there _were_differences was still considered controversial in some quarters. _Whatever he is, he doesn't feel like a spiritual entity._

"What we are," the boy said.

Another chill. It was too close to some of the things that Crusaders said. This child isn't a Crusader though. There were certain ways that Crusaders tended to act, certain patterns they tended to follow, and this boy wasn't showing any of the signs. "What does that mean?" Azmaria asked.

The sky turned silver gray, and the beach and the ocean disappeared. The boy was no longer alone. four other boys, and four girls were standing beside him. All of them had white-blond hair and cold, blank expressions on their faces. "It means what it means," the boy said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, because it's mostly exposition and plot and paraphrases from both manga vol. 1 and from the anime.


	9. Interlude: Hoppe Hoppe Reiter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the kids are definitely not all right

The one whose symbols were** (wet pavement) **and** (the rainbow-puddles of oil contaminated water), **who usually answered to **(Siegfried,) **entered the boy's dormitory and was soon mobbed. His brothers were curious and excited, wanting to know everything he had seen and experienced while Outside. What had he done in Berlin, what had he seen, where had he gone? What was the city like? What had he seen, heard, smelled, felt, tasted? He shared what he and** (Sieglinde) **had seen in the city.

(In the girl's dormitory one whose symbols were **(the sound of wind)** and **(bright red leaves falling,) **who was called **(Sieglinde) **answered similar questions. She had been excited to be Outside at first, but the task she'd been given made her ill. There had simply been too much to listen to, and she wasn't as good at protecting herself from emotions and thoughts as **(Siegfried)**.)

They hadn't seen very much, except to note that it was very busy, and very loud. He and **(Sieglinde)** hadn't gone anywhere except various government buildings and dinner parties, where adults talked over their heads. It had been very tiring, because they had been given the task of listening and telling the doctors what they had heard.

The listening had been painful, and had made **(Sieglinde)** unhappy. To make things worse, one of her attendants had become alarmed-fearful when their sister had picked up a book without touching it--and then had kept the attendant's tray from falling to the ground. **(Siegfried) **had been very careful not to reveal his own abilities after that.

**(Siegfried) **wondered what had happened while he and **(Sieglinde)** were away. He learned that a pet crow had been discovered by the teachers, and their sister had been forced to strangle it. There had also been a lecture; keeping pets degraded the human, and did not elevate the animal. Their sister wanted to retaliate, but was waiting for his and ****(Sieglinde's)**** advice on the matter.

( **(Sieglinde)** comforted their sister, and asked what their sister wanted to do. After thinking about it, they decided to arrange for the teacher to trip and break her ankle. A fall that broke her neck might be too suspicious.)

Everyone was doing very well in their classes, and aside from the crow incident, no one had been reprimanded. One of the teachers had been removed from her position because she had grown too attached to** (Anna). **This had not only upset **(Anna)** but also everyone in that teacher's class, because the teacher was a favorite. Their youngest siblings were healthy and would be born within the next week or two.

(**(Sieglinde)** was almost as upset by the teacher's absence as **(Anna).**The teacher had been kind, intelligent and patient. The teacher had known the best games and stories, and spoke to them as if they were nearly adults. The teacher had never been afraid of them, the way the other teachers and doctors sometimes were.)

Three firsts had died, one during an escape attempt--it had been shot by soldiers--and the other two had been killed by **(Ernst). (Siegfried)** wondered why, and learned that the tests the doctors had been giving them were causing them pain. In a lucid moment, they had managed to speak to **(Ernst)** who had also been undergoing tests. **(Ernst's)** intervention had not been detected by the doctors. **(Siegfried) **thought that **(Ernst) **should have waited, but ** (Ernst) **argued that waiting would only have made things worse. **(Siegfried)** acknowledged the point, but asked that** (Ernst) **consult with his brothers before making another decision like that.

**(Siegfried) **learned also that someone had made contact with them, someone who was other. The other's symbols had been very complicated, with a depth that both frightened and fascinated. Those symbols had included the sea, the endless sound of waves, a beach, and a house on the beach.** (Siegfried's) **brothers thought that someone whose symbols were so rich and complex must also be very old and very wise. Much wiser than the teachers and doctors who had few if any conscious symbols.

The images they showed him were of a grown up with pale blue eyes and messy yellow hair that was just slightly too long. Sometimes he had wings, and other times he had horns, or both, or neither. **(Siegfried)** wondered if the man was actually a **(demon,)**but his brothers said that he was **(human).**

**(Siegfried) **thought that the other might not be as old as his brothers thought, but he couldn't say why. **(Sieglinde) **agreed. The other was a grown up, but wasn't very old at all.

**(Geoffrey)** and a few of their siblings had tried to return the contact, but it hadn't worked. Instead, they had found **(a sad song, crosses lined up in rows). **She was like them, but also not like them. **(Geoffrey)**thought she had grown into her power too quickly, or had burned too brightly, and had become a banked fire. They hadn't been able to speak to her in a way she could understand, and had become frightened.

**(Geoffrey) **wondered if they should pursue the new other, or the first other.

**(Siegfried) **thought about it. The new other was definitely closer than the old one. On the other hand, she used the old one's symbols, even if she hadn't realized it. It occurred to him that there might be a bond between them, the way there was a bond between himself and his siblings. "One will lead us to the other," he said finally. They were the first words he'd spoken aloud since he had entered the room. "Watch her." There was cautious agreement from both the sisters and the brothers. The world Outside was a strange and dangerous place, and they needed to learn everything about it.

The bell that called everyone to dinner sounded, and the boys immediately formed a line and filed out of the dormitory, marching into the hallway. The line of boys met the line of girls midway between the dormitories, and walked two by two into the dining hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creepy Kids brought you courtesy of _The Midwich Cuckoos_, "It's a *Good* Life", _More Than Human_, and every other SF story featuring Creepy Kids I've ever read, except possibly the _It's Alive_ movie series.
> 
> Also: Yes, there is a reason why the names are in parenthesis/bolded.


	10. The Op:  Luck of the Draw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Willis have a little heart to heart chat.

After Willis had finished his meal, and I filled him in on all the details, we stopped by his room to pick up his luggage and passports. "So, what's it like, working for Christopher?" Willis asked somewhere between his room and where I'd left the Kid and Chrono.

I gave him a look. He hadn't said much since I'd talked to him in the cafeteria. Mostly, he'd just shot me looks, half-annoyed, half-curious. "A little more exciting than I like, some of the time," I said. "The pay's good though."

"And you feel like you owe him, because of your wife?" The look on my face must have told him how close he was to getting a knuckle sandwich because he took a quick step back. "I'm not trying to start anything, Tomlin, I'm just trying to understand."

"The cure for Crusader is available to everybody," I pointed out. "So no, it isn't because of Beth. It's not because I owe the Kid my life, either. It's for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that he's a good kid, and I like working for him."

Having him for a partner had been a little hair-raising at times though. You wouldn't believe some of the trouble that kid could get himself into without even trying. There was the situation with a sorceress who had been one of Aion's pet proteges, and the time he tried to talk down a half-crazy demon. (I had to rescue him from the sorceress, he had to rescue me from the demon.) He wasn't as destructive as his sister was supposed to have been when she was working for the Madgalen Order, but on his worst days he could make a saint swear blue murder with the risks he took.

"You like him," Willis said, like he couldn't wrap his mind around the idea.

"For a 'sensitive,' you sure are a thick son of a--" I trailed off as Willis started to crack up. He was laughing like what I said was something from an Abbott and Costello routine. I stared at him, trying to figure out what the hell I'd said to set him off.

"That's the problem, Tomlin," he said, still laughing. "I can't sense a damn thing from you. It's like you're not there at all, most of the time." Willis' grin was a text book example of why baring the teeth is usually considered a threat in the animal kingdom. "It's easier if you're steamed though."

Son of a _bitch. _I took a breath and reminded myself that I'd told Chrono I could handle this guy. Can't prove myself wrong by strangling the bastard. "Then I guess you can tell what I'm thinking now, right?"

"Tomlin, you're working for a foreign agency, hell, you're working for Old Scratch himself--what the hell do you expect?" Willis asked.

"You brought his family into it, Mr. Willis, what do you expect?" A third voice interjected. Viscount Ardath, one of Duke Duffau's people. Ardath was one of the tall, lean type of demon, and his horns were long, black and forked like a pronghorn antelope. He was dressed to impress in black and dark green armor, and a matching cloak. One his feet were the weird soleless sandals some demons wore when they were in native costume. "Mr. Tomlin is very protective of his wife and daughter--so that he'd be angry at your intrusion into his private life is perfectly understandable." Ardath glanced between the two of us. "I trust I needn't explain to the both of you the urgency of our mission, and why we should work together?"

"No," I said, my reply was echoed by Willis, who looked like he was sucking on a lemon. "You're on this mission too?" I asked, having caught the 'our mission' part of Ardath's speech.

Ardath nodded. "Myself and two others who are known to you." He tilted his head slightly. "The Master and Mister Christopher are waiting at the gate-terminus." He turned and headed down the hall, without looking back to see if we were following.

"Friend of yours, Tomlin?" Willis asked in an undertone as we followed. His tone was acidic and annoyed at Ardath's attitude.

"That's Viscount Ardath," I said, taking his question literally. "And no, not a friend. I've had to work with him a couple times, that's all." Ardath didn't like humans, and didn't trust me because I used to work for Aion. The only good thing that could be said for the guy was that he didn't let that dislike get in the way of the mission.

"And what about 'the two who are known to you?'" Willis asked, making air quotes with his fingers.

"Well, Chrono said there would be three viscounts going on this mission," I said. "And if Ardath's going it'd almost have to be Syn and Embla." Ardath's boyfriend and girlfriend, respectively, but I wasn't going into something like that. Not in front of Ardath anyway, because if Willis even sneezed wrong about it, Ardath would probably kill him, 'the urgency of our mission' or not.

"It is Syn and Embla," Ardath commented as we reached the elevator. He pressed the button. A light at the top of the door flashed, and the door whisked open. We entered, and Ardath hit the button for the floor where the gate-terminus was located. "We were assigned to this mission because we have been monitoring the Astral activity in Germany and Austria."

"Find anything interesting?" I asked.

"We believe we may be able to pinpoint Azmaria's location, despite whatever barrier they have hidden her behind."

When we got to the gate-terminus, Chrono and The Kid were in the middle of a conversation. Standing near a float-pallet full of luggage were Ardath's partners. Syn was tall, black, and very broad across the shoulders. His eyes were almost human looking blue, and he didn't have any hair. His horns looked like they belonged on longhorn bull and his armor was black and green, like Ardath's. Embla was about a foot and a half shorter than Syn's seven foot eight inches with an icy-white complexion, indigo hair and yellow eyes. Her horns were short and goatish, and her armor was all black. Neither of them were wearing their wings just then. Syn's wings were bony projections growing from his spine, and Embla had webbed, low set wings with a kind of swallowtail extension in the lower quarter.

"...her presence in your dreams?" Chrono asked as we came up.

"Only very briefly," Joshua said. "For all I know it could just be wishful thinking on my part." He looked like he was going to say more, but he noticed us approaching, and switched gears. "Hello again, Mr. Willis," he said to Willis. "Thank you for agreeing to come on this mission."

Willis tried to tip a hat that wasn't there at the moment, and turned the gesture into an almost-salute. "You're welcome, Mr. Christopher," he said.

We were met at the Paris gate-terminus by Amelia Gramont, a girl a about the Kid's age with short, straight brown hair and spectacles. She was sitting in what was essentially a motorized wheelchair. "Hello gentlemen, my lords," she said in English that had a slight New York accent. "Welcome to the Paris Embassy."

"Hello, Amelia," Joshua said, stepping forward. "Have you and Nicolas both been well?" He held both hands out, and she clasped them briefly. Nicolas Gramont was the Director of the Paris Embassy, a Freemason who dabbled in alchemy and what he called "the metapsychic sciences." Amelia Gramont (nee Gray) was a girl with a metapsychic talents; clairsentience combined with telekinesis. Her big trick was animating articulated dolls and toy planes and using them to scout out locations rumored to be haunted.

"Yes sir," the girl said with a smile. "We have a suite set up for you and your party, and made arrangements for a train to Berlin. If you'll follow me?" The Paris Embassy was set up the way the New York Embassy was. Meeting and reception rooms on the lower floors, administrative, training and debriefing rooms and cafeteria on the middle floors, and living space for guests and employees on the upper floors.

The suite we were taken to had a central parlor, a dining area, and three bedrooms each with its own bathroom. There were no windows, framed prints on the walls, and the occasional expensive looking vase full of flowers on sideboards and tables. The Kid spoke to Amelia for a few moments outside the room, then returned. "It's a little after midnight, Paris time," Joshua said. "But Amelia said that the kitchen is open for the night crew."

"May we be dismissed, Master?" Ardath asked Chrono. "We have not yet eaten." Chrono gave permission with a nod, and Ardath bowed and headed out the door with his partners in tow.

Just the four of us now. I took off my hat and coat and hung them up on the coat rack by the door. Willis and Joshua did the same. "I'm guessing The Three Musketeers are getting the big room to theirselves, right?" And because I'm a total bastard sometimes, I asked, "are the walls soundproofed?"

Joshua gave me an irritated, amused look, but it took Willis a moment to get what I was implying. For a minute I thought his eyes were going to drop out of his head as his imagination took him places he definitely didn't want to go. "Different strokes for different folks," he muttered under his breath then flushed at the choked almost-snicker from Chrono.

"I usually share a room with Joshua during diplomatic missions," Chrono said. Then, in a seeming non sequitur, "how is your head, Mr. Willis? You should probably sit down."

I hadn't really noticed before, but Willis looked a little gray around the edges. I'd put it down to a long debriefing session and not much sleep. If there was something wrong though, Willis denied it. "I'm fine your Majesty," Willis said shortly. "Just point out where I should put my luggage."

"I am not a king, Mr. Willis," Chrono corrected. "My titles are Master or Lord. You and Sam can share the room on the end." He picked up his and Joshua's luggage and went into the second room, followed by Joshua.

I picked up my own bags and headed into the third bedroom, Willis close behind. There was the usual song and dance about who was going to get which bed, and I ended up taking the bed closer to the door. "So, what's wrong with your head?" I asked when we'd set our own luggage down by the beds.

Willis gave me a dirty look. "There's nothing wrong," he said.

"Then why'd Chrono mention it?"

"You on first name basis with 'the Master'?" Willis asked, giving the word 'master' a horror movie flair.

"Not especially," I said, refusing to let Willis get on my nerves. If there was something wrong with his head, it might explain the way he was acting. "He seems to be on first name basis with me, most of the time."

"Lucky you," Willis said, rubbing his head and sounding tired. "Look, this hasn't exactly been the best week ever." He sighed, and I almost felt sorry for him. "You remember what I said about not being able to hear you?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't hear demons either. All I get from them is a sound like my ears are ringing. Usually followed by a migraine."

"The past couple of days must have been hell then," I said, somewhat sympathetically.

"No kidding," Willis said sourly. "The only good thing about the talent is that I can spot someone who's possessed almost instantly."

"Or someone who has Crusader?" I asked. It was a big leap in speculation, since Crusader wasn't quite like being possessed, but it was damned close.

Willis twitched a little at that, like he was remembering something he really didn't want to. "Yeah," he said quietly.

_What's your story, Willis? _I didn't ask the question though. If it was important to the mission, I'd find out, or he'd tell me. "Huh. Well, try to get some sleep," I said. "Can I get you anything? Aspirin or something?"

Willis shook his head. "Won't help, g'night, Tomlin." He took off his tie and laid back on his bed, turned out the light on his side of room, and closed his eyes.

"Yeah, good night." I let myself out of the room.


	11. The Magus: Living Metaphor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Joshua makes friends, influences people, and receives not enough information.

_ Dream _

The conversation was exactly the same, but the setting was different. Instead of a restaurant in New York, he and Azmaria were having dinner out on the verandah of the house in San Francisco. From where he was sitting, he could see Aion walking barefoot along the shoreline, the water foaming white around his ankles. It didn't seem strange, the way things never seem strange in a dream.

Joshua could hear jazz playing on the radio, and the ocean. He could hear seagulls and the wind murmuring through the trees. His answer to her question was the same as it had been the first time. "I'm sorry, but no."

Azmaria's eyes widened, and a flush rose to her cheeks. "But--I thought--_why?"_

"We both have obligations," Joshua said, feeling like a heel, but determined to see this through. "Almost but not quite mutually exclusive obligations."

"We could work around them," Azmaria said. "I could see about being assigned to the laity, or--" A gulp of air. "I could leave the Order."

"Just because of me?" Joshua shook his head. It would be a disaster. Even if she went into the laity, her reputation would suffer--not within the New York branch of the Order perhaps, but outside it. "I'm not worth it." A slight, self-deprecating smile. "I'm damaged goods, after all."

"You are not! There's nothing wrong with you!" Azmaria said, and flushed brighter still.

"There isn't a lot _right _with me," Joshua replied. "No, stop," he said when Azmaria started to deny what he had said. "Please hear me out." He waited for her reluctant nod before continuing. "There are two reasons. The first is that I don't want my associations past or present to tarnish your reputation. The second is I don't want you to leave the Order or accept a lesser position because of me, and I think you don't want that either. Taking either of those paths could lead to anger and resentment, and I value our friendship too much to risk it."

"I don't care what people think of you, or Chrono and Rosette," Azmaria said. Her expression was very fierce--but she looked like an angry kitten.

"It isn't just Chrono or Rosette and you know it," Joshua interjected. "You _should _care, if only to defend yourself from what people might say."

"I don't think that I'd resent you for a decision _I _chose to make," Azmaria said.

"But it isn't one you _have_ to make," Joshua said. "It's a choice I don't want you to make--not for me, not for anyone."

* * *

_ Now _

When he awoke, Joshua felt as if his head had been stuffed with cotton. The details of the dream hovered just out of reach, and he fumbled for the pen and note book he always kept by his bed. He could hear the shower, and Chrono singing. The song made Joshua laugh quietly. There was something very surreal about a demon singing "Ezekiel Saw the Wheel."

Joshua wrote down as much of the dream as he could remember before putting his note book aside and getting dressed. He hummed in harmony as he headed into the bathroom and combed his hair and shaved. "I think I'm going to need to talk to him, Chrono," he said. The name _Aion_ echoed between them, so suddenly that Joshua wasn't sure who had thought it first. "I'd like you to be there when I do."

The singing stopped, and Chrono exited the shower, reaching for a towel. "Are you sure?" He asked, frowning.

Chrono wrapped the towel around himself, then took a second one, and began wringing out his hair. Joshua helped with that part, combing it out and braiding it the way his sister would have. "I'm sure," Joshua said, tying the braid off with a red ribbon. He continued to play valet, setting out clothes for Chrono, rearranging their luggage and making the beds. "I'd like for you to be there--but not if it would hurt you, to see him."

Chrono smiled slightly. "No. It's not that. It's just that what you do--what you have with Aion--feels private. I don't want to intrude." His eyes went distant for a moment. Rosette putting her two cents in, Joshua thought. "Rosette says she _wants_ to intrude because she thinks you're crazy, thinking you can control Aion."

"I've never thought that though," Joshua said with a smile.

* * *

Joshua made arrangements with Nicolas and Amelia for use of one of the smaller conference rooms. A few hours later, he had an altar set up in the eastern corner of the room. It felt a little strange with Chrono watching him. Not uncomfortable, just strange, because Chrono was standing in the place where Shader or Sam usually stood when he needed a spotter. "Remember, don't say his name out loud," Joshua said. "I only use their names under certain circumstances."

Chrono nodded. "I'll remember."

Joshua took the sword, and set it point down, his hands on the hilt. "Let my work today do more good than harm," he murmured, head bowed for a moment before he faced away from the altar.

One breath, two, three. The sword hummed beneath his hands, and he remembered Aion's hands over his, teaching him how to use it. He remembered Aion smiling, telling him not to over do it when he practiced. Aion had always been the most reachable during those practice sessions, the most open when he was teaching someone. He remembered Fiore and Aion, sparring at half, then full speed, sword against halberd. He remembered learning to play the piano, and the organ.

He remembered pain and fear, and the horrible noise filling his head. He remembered Aion asking him what he would do, if Chrono wanted his horns back. He remembered a gun firing, and Chrono flying backward. He remembered Aion with Rosette in his arms, and catching the sword he now held in his hands. He remembered stabbing Chrono with it, and Rosette begging him to stop. He remembered and put everything that he remembered about Aion, the good and the bad, into the spell he was creating.

Another breath. "In this place and time, a circle with myself at center. Let no hostile spirits see, let no hostile presence enter. I wait will you come? I ask will you answer? I speak will you listen? Here is your sword, will you take it?" Joshua balanced the flat of the blade on his hands, and held it up, as if he were offering it.

He felt something click into place, and heard footsteps. The air went cold and sharp, and the footsteps grew louder, came closer. The sword balanced on air, and Aion stepped from shadows that hadn't been there a moment before. His presence brought a chill to the air that made Joshua's breath fog. Aion was wearing armor and wings, and his bony tail swished. He very seldom appeared in that shape, seeming to prefer more human appearing ones. The message behind it was fairly apparent. Be on your guard, Aion was saying. Be ready to defend yourself. "There is a sword between us," Aion said.

"There is a word," Joshua replied. "In this place and time, I will not speak it." _Aion, _echoed from Chrono so strongly Joshua was afraid for a second that it had been said aloud. It hadn't been, because Aion was still here.

Aion glanced in Chrono's direction. "He's here."

"Do you object?" Joshua asked formally.

Aion smiled. "No, I'm surprised. I hadn't thought he'd come." Informal and casual, as if Chrono were an unexpected, but welcome guest. "Hello, Chrono," he said.

Joshua sensed Chrono's brief struggle to not say Aion's name out loud. "Hello brother," he said finally.

Aion's head tilted very slightly, and his smile became a smirk. "The one who went to war, and the one who defends," he said. "Just like the Brothers. Which one you were will become the other very soon. Will you be ready?"

"We will remain neutral," Chrono said unsteadily.

"Do you really think you can?" Aion's tone was mocking.

"No games," Joshua interjected sharply. "No games, even now, in this place."

"This is not a game," Aion replied. "This is a test. Will you be ready? Can you go to war?"

"We can't afford a war, we're too few," Chrono said.

"We were six, and they numbered in the thousands. We were five, and you were two--who out-numbered whom? You cannot avoid this war--tell it to your allies, their agreements will fall apart very soon now. Can you go to war?"

"We can," Chrono said, his voice sounding strangely doubled, a slight echo of Rosette in the sound. "If we have to, we will fight."

"Is this what you came here to say?" Joshua asked.

Aion's attention returned to Joshua. "In part," he said, in a different tone of voice. "It's good that you summoned me here, instead of coming to me. They are looking for you, as I warned you they would."

"Alone, or under direction?" Joshua asked.

"Alone, I haven't detected any adults." Glasses glinted as he pushed them up the bridge of his nose. Aion was no longer clad in his armor, instead he wore shirt, neatly pressed trousers and low black combat boots. "Nor have the children detected me. _They _however have found sweet Charity, wandering among your symbols."

"I haven't been able to contact her," Joshua said. "I wasn't sure if I was just dreaming about her, or if she was really there. Can you pinpoint her location?" Joshua asked hopefully.

"The living would be better suited to the task," Aion said. "They have placed specific protections against the presence of the dead over every place currently under their power." A pause. "There may soon be a blockage in the flow of the Astralline over much of Europe."

"A blockage?" Chrono questioned.

"At this time, I can't identify it's nature," Aion said. He looked at Joshua. "I have come, I have listened, I have spoken. The sword between us is your own."

"So be it, Aion," Joshua said, and the sword dropped. By the time he caught it and looked to where Aion had stood, he was gone.

* * *

_ Elsewhen _

Visiting Sam became a habit after a while. Joshua's original plan had been to let Sam think about the job offer on his own. To give Sam time to be with his family, and to not have to worry about anything except helping his wife recover from her illness. What actually ended up happening was that Joshua would make periodic visits, coming over for dinner, and talking.

After dinner on one particular night, they sat out on the porch, and watched Sam's little girl catching fireflies out in the field. Two members of the New York Branch Magdalen Order--twelve year old postulants--were with her, their careless laughter drifting back to the house. Earlier in the day they had been playing 'demons and exorcists,' and Sam jokingly complained that the postulants were going to turn his daughter into a 'holy gun moll.'

"You were saying that your sister lived here for a while?" Sam asked, indicating the house with a tilt of his head.

"Yeah, it's a Pursuer safe house," Joshua said. He wondered what it had been like for Rosette to awaken and find herself surrounded by enemies who were also allies. Like waking up, and being surrounded by strangers who said they were friends, he thought. (There were some things they didn't talk about.) "Duffau was creatively interpreting orders at that point." He smiled. "Goldbricking. Once she woke up, she was brought here to recuperate."

"From being dead," Sam said. "Like Lazarus, or something."

"As far as human medical knowledge was concerned, Chrono and Rosette were both dead," Joshua said. "It wasn't a miracle though, it was Legion, and the bond between Rosette and Chrono."

"Sounds pretty miraculous to me," Sam said. "Then again, all I got is human knowledge." Sam's tone was very dry.

"Sorry, I've been saying that a lot lately," Joshua said.

"To who?"

"Everyone and their cousin, it seems like," Joshua said. Gil had decided early on that Joshua would be the one to explain what had happened, and why. _They always ask the same questions, so you will provide them with the same answers until they tire of repeating themselves, _Gil had said. _I will speak to them when they have something new to say. _

"Religious groups, government officials, reporters. It's...really important that the visions of the Crusaders are shown to be a result of mass hysteria caused by forces that were defeated by the Madgalen Order and their allies. That the Saint wasn't real. The only vaccine for false information is the truth," Joshua said.

"Vaccine, huh?" Sam looked off in the direction of his daughter. Joshua wondered if Sam was thinking about his part in what happened in San Francisco. A very small part, to be sure. The only thing Sam had done was find the people that Aion wanted found. Joshua knew that even playing a small part in something so terrible could create a lot of guilt. "They got Beth off the sedatives," Sam said after a while. "The new medicine seems to be helping, some."

"When she's more stable, they'll be able to help her to break the Crusader spell," Joshua said. "They--we can't guarantee a complete recovery, but she'll be free of the visions and compulsions."

"That's good enough," Sam said. "I'm not looking for miracles." More quietly, he said, "I just want my wife back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter summary: In which Aion is a diabolus ex machina, and Joshua is a heel. Thanks to kdorian for looking at parts of this.
> 
> There are apparently a bajillion versions of various lengths of "Ezekiel Saw the Wheel." I'm not sure which one Chrono was singing, or where the heck he learned it. It is a great mystery


	12. The Op: Incidental Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things happen.

The first thing Chrono and The Kid did the next day was disappear for a few hours. The Kid had taken his sword, so I knew what he was probably up to. Willis didn't, so I filled him in, leaving out a few details here and there. Willis didn't really need to know who The Kid's favorite informants were in the Great Beyond. The demons knew, but they didn't say a word while I was explaining things to Willis.

"How much does Christopher rely on hoodoo?" Willis asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

We'd been brought coffee, a selection of dishes from the lunch menu, and newspapers. Ardath had retreated with the German and French papers, leaving the British and American ones to us. "Not as much as you might think," I said, scanning the headlines. "Mostly he uses demon technology and human know-how."

"Demon technology might as well be hoodoo, for all I know about it," Willis said with a disgruntled look in my direction.

"Admission of ignorance is the first step toward true knowledge," Embla said cheerfully, coming over. She was carrying an odd looking device and a two little cases. She set them both down on the coffee table. "I've brought your translators. They also have a sleep-teaching setting that I'll show you how to use." She handed us each a little case. Willis took his with considerable reluctance.

The translator device was a tiny box that looked a little like a hearing aid, with a series of little silver buttons running down one side. A thin black wire came from one end, and it ended in what looked like a rubber lump. The lump went into your ear, and the little box could be hooked over your ear. She demonstrated how to put the thing on, how to turn it on and off, and its various settings. "They can translate German, French and Polish into English. Please wear them at all times--don't take them off even to bathe or use the facilities."

"Right," I said, and put mine on. Willis did the same. "What's with the headphones?" I asked, nodding at the thing on the table. It looked like a headset connected to something that looked a little like a radio. There was also a little bag of disks that I knew were the demonic equivalent of X-ray machines and stethoscopes.

"We won't be leaving for a few hours, and I was hoping to run a few tests on Mr. Willis, if he was willing," Embla said.

"What kind of 'tests'?" Willis asked with a frown.

"To see what causes your headaches, Mr. Willis," Embla said.

The frown got a little darker. "I already know what causes my headaches, ma'am. I get headaches when there's demons around."

"Yes, but I'd like to know what you're sensing," Embla said patiently.

"Demons?"

Embla frowned slightly, looking a little confused herself. Then she brightened up, an a-ha expression on her face. "What you are sensing, when you sense the presence of demons," she said. "Knowing will be useful--both to the mission, and to yourself."

"What do these tests involve?" Willis asked warily.

I left Embla to her sales pitch, and headed out of the suite. I wanted to try out the translator and see where The Kid had gotten too. For the time of day, the Paris Embassy wasn't any different than the one in New York. There were people in the hallway going about their business, talking or arguing. The translator worked pretty well, though I had to adjust the volume.

For whatever reason, Syn followed me out. For such a big guy, Syn was light on his feet, hardly making any noise at all when he walked. "In layman's terms, what was so important about the Astral activity over Germany?" I asked.

"In layman's terms--we were looking for canals, dams, and flooding," Syn said after a little while. "We were looking for evidence that certain sorceries were being performed. The results of our studies have gone to the appropriate places, hopefully the humans will use the information correctly."

"Classified?" I asked. I'd been hoping for information, but had gotten a definition instead.

"Not to you," Syn said with a brief, odd look I didn't understand. "It's difficult to describe what we found in English--it lacks the terminology." His gaze slid away for a moment with that not-quite-there look of someone in psychic contact with someone else. "There have been some disturbing fluctuations in the astrallines, and a slow but steady buildup of miasma. We suspect that they're using necromancy, or attempting to. The dead like being compelled to speak by humans about as much as demons like being controlled by humans."

For a moment, I wondered what the Vril Society was looking for, that they needed to use necromancy to find it. Only for a moment though. There are some aspects of sorcery that are so absolutely wrong that modern sorcerers won't use them. They'll even destroy the ancient texts (or scrolls or tablets) that contain them, and most sorcerers would rather die than burn a book. But there are other ways to get that forbidden information--ways that don't involve cracking open a book. "Is there anyway to find out what they're looking for? I mean, the metaphysical equivalent of breaking and entering and overturned filing cabinets?"

"Nothing that's admissable in any court as evidence," Syn said. "In any court-system but Lemuria's, that is."

I nodded. "Not that we could exactly arrest the Germans anyway," I said. "Or put them on trial."

"Yet."

Once we'd tracked Chrono and The Kid down things really started hopping. Chrono spoke to the Gramonts while The Kid got on the phone with the French, then called the English. I sat in on the phone calls, which got kind of heated. Joshua's phone conversations basically boiled down to: Lemuria would remain neutral unless attacked--the greater concern at the moment for Lemuria were the much closer Japanese and the war going on in Asia.

I think everyone involved in the conversation knew that this was just stalling, but no one said anything about it. Lemuria might be a fly speck country buried in a frozen tomb of a continent, but it was a fly speck demon country. It couldn't afford to stay neutral for very long, not when the enemy had devil masters and sorcerers on the payroll.

Then again, it couldn't really afford to go to war either. They wouldn't be able to face a human army straight on because their army wasn't big enough. Even if the average demon was ten times stronger than a human, numbers would even things out quickly.

Another problem was that demons could be captured and forced to fight on the enemy's side with sorcery. Following close behind that was the problem of demons being extremely sensitive to spiritual and Astral barriers and holy wards.

Yet another problem wasn't one I would have thought of--it was one of the Jackson kid's pet theories that I overheard him talking about with one of the demon operatives. Basically, demons learned warfare from bronze and iron age charioteers and legionaires, and never really bothered to improve on what worked for them at the time because their campaigns were punitive, not territorial. They tended to use human-style tactics and weaponry because the demon versions of the same would have wiped out life on this planet, which they really couldn't afford to do because they'd starve.

After the phone calls, me, Willis and Syn got sent down to the station to check out the train we'd be taking to Berlin. We had a car all to ourselves, set up like a rolling hotel suite, almost. Everything checked out, and everyone on the train were who they were supposed to be. We set up the security system, loaded all our luggage, and we were on our way by three.

"What the heck does 'song of work' mean?" Willis asked a few hours later.

Embla and Ardath were doing a walk through, and Syn was keeping an eye on the sensors at a little work station set up on the other end of the car. Chrono was in the bunk area, pretty much dead to the world--not asleep but in some kind of trance while he talked to the Queen--and would be for a couple of hours, according to The Kid.

I looked up from the newspaper I was reading. "That's kinda hard to explain," I said, and glanced a question at Joshua, who was sitting at the table in the dining area, writing in his journal. His look said, you go ahead and explain it. "Where'd you hear about it?"

"Viscountess Embla," Willis said. "She says that's mostly what I'm sensing when I start getting a headache."

"Only mostly?" I asked.

"I'm also 'Legion-sensitive'--but it's the other thing that seemed to get her attention."

I thought about that for a minute. "Yeah. It would."

Willis gave me an exasperated look. "Would you mind explaining it?"

"Well, you know how in basic training you learn to march and work as a unit?" Willis nodded. "Well, demons kind of skip that step. When they get started on a task they're like the gears in a watch, because they're inside each other's heads. It's not usually something they do on purpose, it's like geese flying or something. What you're hearing is all the talking that's going on underneath it," I said. "That's what The Kid and Physician-Elder Gilgamesh say anyway."

Willis frowned. "And that's what I'm sensing? Them talking about working together?"

"It isn't conscious speech," Syn said. Apparently he'd been listening in. "And its wavelength is usually too far below that of a human's sensitivity." He looked up from his station. "Is there a particular reason why you haven't accepted training for your talent, Mr. Willis?"

"Not many teachers for that kind of thing in my line of work," Willis said. "Most of the civilian teachers I met were flakes who didn't much like people in law enforcement, and the various religious groups weren't my thing at all, so I'm pretty much self-taught."

"I see," Syn said. I don't think he really did though. "You now have an opportunity to correct that--if not immediately, then for the future."

"Yeah? And who'd be giving me this training?" Willis asked. His brows lowered belligerently.

"Chrono or myself," Joshua said. "I'm not a sensitive, but some of the exercises are similar to what I do when I meditate."

"I'll think about it," Willis muttered, and went back to his book.

The train ride was uneventful right up until the end when Willis turned white as a sheet in the middle of a poker game and slumped out of his chair in a dead faint. It happened the moment we crossed the border into Germany, and at about the same time everyone in the room except me winced in pain, snarled, or in Embla's case dropped the cards she'd been holding and ran for the facilities to be noisily sick. "What the hell just happened?" I asked as I helped carry Willis to his bunk.

"We just went through a barrier," Joshua said. He looked a little green around the gills, and his voice was a little unsteady. "It wasn't fully active, but there was some resonance."

I looked in the direction of the bathroom where Embla was still being sick. Syn was in there holding her hair for her, while Ardath hovered just outside the door. Then I looked down at Willis. "Resonance you say."

"Some people are more sensitive than others," Joshua said with a slight smile.

"Is there a reason we didn't know about it?" I asked, meaning, who screwed up here?

"It was very recently installed," Chrono said with an exasperated, chagrinned look. "I'm just now recieving a report about it."

"Better late than never," I said dryly.

We were met at the train station by German government officials, a handful of Vril Society members and another bunch of people from the English Embassy, where we were going to be staying. Chrono let Joshua do most of the greeting and handshaking, only interjecting a comment here or there. Ardath, Syn, and Embla were playing body guard to Chrono, and I was playing guard to Joshua. Willis was still out of it--one of the first things Joshua asked for was for a gurney to be brought, so we could get him to the Embassy.

"If one of your people is ill, we can take him to the hospital," one of the German officials said.

"That won't be necessary," Joshua replied. "Thank you for inquiring, however."

There was some more talking, an invitation to a reception and vague promises about more in depth discussions to take place in the next couple days. Then Joshua and Chrono said their goodbyes, and we packed our luggage into the cars the English Embassy and brought, and left the train station.


	13. The Angel: Song and Singer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which miracles are dissected, and messages are delivered.

_ Dream _

The setting was different, but the conversation was exactly the same. They sat at a table in an empty, run down farm house. Dust sparkled in shafts of sunlight, and the round table that was too big to be able to fit in such a small room, was set for four other people besides herself and Joshua, but the other places were empty. Satella was sitting in the swing on the porch, watching the sun sink below the horizon. This didn't seem unusual, the way nothing seems unusual in a dream.

"No one blames you for what happened," Azmaria protested again. "You weren't at fault. I don't care what anyone says about what happened."

"Azmaria, the person they don't blame is a young man with the mind of a child," Joshua said. "I will never be one hundred percent 'cured' but I no longer fit that description. They have no reason to trust me, nor any reason to pity me--and every reason to be suspicious." .

"Then they might as well blame me as well," Azmaria said. "Wasn't I there too?" Wasn't she just as at fault as Joshua? _Pandaemonium is evil, _Aion had said. _It must be destroyed. Miss Hendric, you have the power to right a great and terrible wrong. _So she had helped, and Rosette had become the Saint, and thousands of innocent people had died or gone mad.

"Your case is a little more clear-cut," Joshua said. "You were kidnapped, and your time as a prisoner was very brief. I was with Aion for four years, and during those four years I actively helped Aion and the other Sinners. You're still seen as a victim, but that view may change if we continue on as we have."

"So--so you're just going to give up? Joshua, I don't want to stop seeing you!" Tears stung her eyes, and she wiped at them with a handkerchief Joshua offered. She felt angry and lost, and a little like punching Joshua for deciding all of this without her. Rosette's bad example, she thought, feeling a spark of amusement despite herself. She didn't think hitting someone who made her angry would have ever have occurred to her before she met Rosette.

"I'm not giving up," Joshua said. "And we don't have to stop seeing each other--though I wouldn't blame you if--" Joshua trailed off.

"I'm not giving up either."

* * *

_ Now _

_I'm not giving up either. _

She slid out of the dream into wakefulness when a cold, wet rag was brushed over her face. Azmaria blinked, her eyes gummy with sleep and tried to push the rag away. "Cold," she complained, shivering. Her head hurt, and her vision was blurry.

"You're burning up," a vaguely familiar voice argued.

"Ibronka?" It was the first name that came to mind. The second for some reason was Satella, a shadow from the dream, she thought.

The narrow bed shifted. The room was dark, but Azmaria could make out a vaguely female shape sitting on the bed. "No, it's Irene. Do you know where you are?"

"Goddamned hellhole," Azmaria said in English. Her voice sounded scratchy and hoarse to her own ears, and her throat hurt. For a moment she wondered if she were coming down with a cold--but the pain wasn't quite right for a sore throat brought on by sickness. _Screaming, _she thought, and shivered, remembering the energy running along her nerves, and the cold burning sensation from the circuitry woven into the collar of the smock she had been wearing. She remembered screaming.

Irene laughed, sounding tired. "I'm not sure what that meant, but I think I can guess," she said in German. "You're in one of the quarantine rooms, in the infirmary. You apparently had a seizure of some kind during one of the tests. They brought you back, but you never woke up. You started burning up with a fever, and bleeding from your eyes and ears."

Nine years ago she had burned away the last of her power. Nine years ago she and a handful of others had been used by Aion to manipulate the Astralline in an attempt to destroy Pandaemonium. "Never wanted it. But then it was gone," Azmaria whispered.

A hand touched her face. "I don't understand," Irene said. She sounded worried, and uncertain.

"The miracle in my singing," Azmaria said. When she was a child, she had always referred to it as if the miracle were in the song--but it hadn't been the song, it had been the singer; what she sang had never mattered. "You can't dissect a miracle, Irene."

"I wouldn't think so." Irene was trying to sound brisk and confident, but her voice cracked at the edges. "Just try to sleep, Azmaria," she said.

"I'm not sleepy," Azmaria said. Her vision was clearing now, and she could make out the pale oval of the woman's face, her dark eyes and arching brows. "From what you said, I've been sleeping entirely too much. Can I have some water?"

The brows lifted. "Can you sit up?"

"I can try," Azmaria said. She rolled onto her side, and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. She took the cup Irene held out to her, and sipped. The water had a heavy mineral taste--but she didn't think anything else had been added to it. And if they wanted to drug her, they wouldn't bother resorting to subterfuge. She finished the glass and set it down on a rickety little table near the bed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Irene said. "What happened to you?"

"They wanted me to sing," Azmaria said. Unconsciously, she touched her throat, remembering the device they'd locked around her neck. It had been like that night so long ago, when Ricardo Hendric had tried to bring his wife back to life. The apparatus they had used had looked exactly like the chair she'd been chained to. "When they didn't get the results they wanted--" She swallowed, tasting bile at the back of her throat. "They used a receptor, and ran a current of Astral energy through me." Her hand clenched into a fist, and dropped to the bed.

"What were they hoping to accomplish?" Irene asked.

Azmaria shook her head. "I don't know." It was half a lie. She had an idea of what they were trying to do. The Vril Society didn't just want to dissect miracles--they wanted to harness the power itself, and they thought she was the key.

* * *

_ Elsewhen _

Azmaria waited nervously in the foyer of the townhouse, while Annalise spoke with her had been waiting for only a few minutes, but each of those minutes felt like hours. More than enough time to worry about first impressions and what she was going to say, or if Herr Faust would see her at all.

"He will see you now," Annalise said when she finally returned. The gem summoner frowned slightly, her expression briefly reflecting equal parts wariness and concern. "Little angel," she began. "Please remember that--" Annalise trailed off, and her frown deepened. "There are things that the Order must not know."

"I'm not here on behalf of the Order, Frau Harvenheit," Azmaria said. "Even if I were, I wouldn't tell them anything that would bring danger to your--to the family."

Annalise's brows rose. "But you would tell them something?" She asked dryly, then waved away Azmaria's stammered assurances. "Hush, angel," Annalise said with a smile. "That was only teasing. Follow me." Annalise turned, and headed up the stairway, Azmaria trailing behind her.

Azmaria hadn't been quite sure of what to expect of Herr Faust, by way of demeanor or appearance. All she knew of him was that he was one of those who had defected from Pandaemonium and had chosen to blend in with humanity rather than play with it. Because Annalise called him "Grandfather," Azmaria had mentally pictured him older--someone who appeared to be the age of Duke Duffau perhaps, or the age of Gil. She hadn't expected him to look like a child--though she understood why almost immediately. _Aion must have taken his horns._

Johann Faust appeared to be a boy of twelve, thin with golden eyes and black hair that glinted red in the light streaming from a window with white gauze curtains of his bedroom. He was sitting up in the bed, propped up by pillows. He looked sickly and frail, his eyes shadowed and tired. He still smiled though, when she entered the room. "Fraulein Hendric, a pleasure to meet you at last," he said in a quiet, surprisingly deep voice. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you for seeing me, Herr Faust," Azmaria said, taking the offered seat. "A pleasure to meet you as well, sir. Frau Harvenheit has told you about me?"

"And Holle, though she never knew it, poor child," Johann said.

"Holle?"

"Satella," Johann said. "In some German legends, the Wild Hunt is led by a woman--a goddess or witch named Holle. It seems appropriate to refer to a Pursuer as 'Holle,' don't you think?"

"I-I suppose," Azmaria said. Everything she had been planning to say flew out the window. _Satella a Pursuer? _Satella who never had the least notion that there was something _ other, _something perhaps nonhuman in her blood. Satella who had hated demons.

"Satella was too young to learn that secret," Johann said gently. "When she left for America to find her sister and seek revenge for what was done to her family. To our family."

"And when she was old enough?" Azmaria asked. She couldn't supress the surge of anger she felt, that Satella had been kept in the dark about where her powers originated.

"When she was old enough, she hated demons with all her heart," Johann replied. "The knowledge of what she was would have destroyed her, or spurred her into doing something rash. What was done was neither just nor kind, but neither what was done to my family by Aion." His words were hard and angry, but his eyes were full of a terrible grief.

"Forgive me, Herr Faust," Azmaria said. "Satella was my friend, someone I looked up to. The idea that a secret like this had been kept from her is a painful one."

"Forgiven, Fraulein," Johann said. "The loss of Satella and her sister--of their entire family--was a terrible blow to all of us." A pause. "But Satella is not the reason you have come here."

Azmaria felt her face heat. "No sir. I came here because Rosette--that is, the Queen--" she stammered, and felt as if her face were burning with her embarrassment.

"Breathe, angel," Johann said, sounding amused. "The word 'angel' comes directly from a word that means 'messenger'--but that doesn't mean I will have you shot if I don't like the message." Johann smiled. "Don't try to remember whatever speech you might have been practicing in the foyer, just tell me the message your friend Rosette asked you to deliver."

Azmaria took a deep breath. "Rosette asked me to speak to you, because you have a comparatively high status among the defectors--and because, because--" her voice faltered.

"Because you knew Annalise, and Satella," Johann put in calmly.

"Yes sir. Rosette says that she's calling off all Pursuit on any defectors--"

"Not that she could sustain one," Johann murmured. "But I suppose it's the thought that counts."

"And she's working to get citizenship status for anyone living among humans," Azmaria continued.

Johann snorted. "Humans can barely stand giving their own kind the rights of a citizen. It would be better if I didn't have to worry about myself and my family being hunted down by priests and sorcerers."

"So far she's only managed to get agreements that any demons discovered are to be deported, instead of executed," Azmaria said. "With any family they've acquired."

"That's something at least," Johann said. "Does she have any demands?"

"Only that you open up 'lines of communication' with Lemuria."

"Write home to mother, in other words," Johann said, looking amused. "Or rather, little sister. You may tell her that I will tell my associates what she has said. For myself, I would like to speak to her--let her know that if she seeks me out, I will not refuse the contact."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terms Used
> 
> Wild Hunt: The wild hunt is usually associated with some parts of England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales, but there are also legends of supernatural huntsmen (led by gods or the devil) and hounds originating in France and Germany. The German one is usually lead by Woden (Wotan, Odin), the Devil, or occasionally by a goddess/witch named variously Perchta, Hulda or Holle.
> 
> "Faust" has to be the most obvious alias EVER.
> 
> Azmaria's dream is the same conversation as the one Joshua remembers, but she remembers different parts.


	14. Interlude: Girls and Boys Come Out to Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the kids don't need no education.

Two demons, one senior to the first spoke silently to each other on a rooftop somewhere in Germany, having stolen a few moments of time away from their duties. _"Tell me your impression of the children," _the Senior said.

_"They are not what I expected," _the second demon replied.

_"Children are never what you expect them to be. You put the most favorable traits together, correct the flaws and hope that the resulting offspring thrive." _A silent laugh. _"But that's not what you mean, is it?" _

_"No, Senior, it isn't." _The reply was disgruntled, which only made the Senior more amused. _"I mean I had not anticipated them being so advanced." _

_"Their mothers were not stupid, nor were their fathers," _the Senior said. A slight pause. _"Their education however is severely lacking."_

_"They aren't being educated at all," _the younger demon said disgustedly. _"They are told lies and idiocy by their 'teachers.'" _

_"As I said," _the Senior said with a look of mild reproof.

The younger demon looked away, embarrassed by his heated words. _"They do appear to be developing normally," _he continued in a more moderate tone. _"In some ways however--" _the younger demon fell silent for a moment. _"In some ways they are severely behind."_

_"Ah?" _The Senior's look invited further explanation.

_"For the most part they are unnamed," _the younger demon said. _"The humans gave them names--but they are not fixed."_

_"They wouldn't be," _the Senior said. _"The names aren't being reinforced. At least not in a way the children would be able to understand." _

_"Should I attempt--" _The younger demon began, but the Senior shook his head.

_"The doctors wouldn't notice the 'tampering' but the sorcerers might. The children most definitely would, and might react upredictably." _A pause. _"I think you find that the children are naming themselves and each other as they become aware of themselves as individuals."_

_"That's--" _The younger demon wanted to say, _that's wrong_,-- names were too important to leave to the whims of a child--but realized the error in time. He fell silent.

_"You understand," _the Senior said. _"We will see what they learn, and what they do on their own. It is not necessary to intervene, in this case at least."_

* * *

The children appeared to be learning a sense of responsibility. Every few days a group of children would slip out of their dormitories, avoiding the teachers who patrolled the halls to make sure everyone was asleep. If their purpose had been mischief, he would have eventually reported their actions--or arranged to let them be caught. The geas he was under would not have permitted him to do otherwise. Since they had a definite purpose, he was able to convince the geasa that the children were not doing anything wrong.

First, they went to see their brothers and sisters who were still developing in their tanks. By watching and listening carefully to the doctors, the children were teaching themselves to work the controls of the tanks and make adjustments to temperature, minerals and nutrients where necessary. They were very careful to return the controls to their original positions before they left--he had only had to correct them a few times.

Next, they went down two levels to the laboratories they weren't supposed to know about. Despite the very real danger of being caught they made their way from cell to cell. Three to check the new arrivals, and three to see to the test subjects he had heard the children referring to as "firsts." Some of the firsts were killed, others were simply eased into a painless sleep. The process was mirrored with the new arrivals.

He hadn't quite figured out what their criteria might be for deciding whether to kill or not. There didn't seem to be a set pattern. Some of the subjects were so near death he would have put them out of their misery, but the children let them live. Others were relatively healthy, but the children killed them. He had a feeling it wasn't something he was going to understand simply from observation.

* * *

The children eventually take notice of him. At first, they are worried because he is something that belongs to the world of adults, the teachers and the doctors in their white coats. When nothing comes of his watching, they become curious, as children do, and watch him in return.

They say little, and he says less, because words are still difficult for them. They think in pictures and complex sensory impressions, and they haven't been taught to organize their thoughts. He has been ordered not to interfere with the childeren's chaotic mental landscape, which is frustrating, though he understands the reasoning behind the order.

He can't interfere directly in their development, but there is one thing he can do. Something any elder brother might do for his younger siblings. When they come to him time and time again, he tells them stories, the same stories he had heard when he was a child.

"Would you like to hear a story?" He asks. The children exchange looks with each other, then look back at him. Only one of the children smiles, but all of them nodded, sitting down in a line at his feet.

"...Now, the two brothers were not always pleased with their duties. Sometimes the One Who Stays wanted to go hunting or fishing or exploring, and the One Who Goes wanted to stay and rest or tend to the gardens or fix the roof. During one such occasion..."

(The stories of the two brothers had always been his favorites when he had been a child. The children usually enjoy them as well.)

"...There were once six children that no one thought were any different from themselves. They looked the same as everyone else, they spoke the same as everyone else and thought the same as everyone else. But one day a terrible thing happened--one of the children did something forbidden. Something so forbidden that the penalty would have been his life.

"The other five children did not want their brother to die, so they took him away before he could be punished for his sin. Because of this all six children were named 'Sinners,' but the children did not care, except that this meant they were now all under a sentence of death. So they asked the sixth child, 'what can we do? We can't stay here, but we have nowhere to  
go!'

"'We do,' the sixth child said. 'There is only one place we can go.'

"'Where is that?' the other children asked.

"'The End of the World is the only safe place for us, until we can leave the World entirely...'"

('Sinners at the End of the World' has never been his favorite story--but the children seem to enjoy it, and ask for it on several occasions.)

"...And each knowing that the end was near, they put down their weapons and set aside their armor and walked up into the Cavern of Night, where Shadow was waiting. She breathed sleep into the mouths of each of the Brothers and laid them both down on beds of stone with snow for a blanket, and there they will sleep until the stars burn down to cinders and the Universe falls into the sleep from which none awaken."

(The children shiver, their eyes wide as saucers when he comes to the end of the story. He'd never understood why humans found this story disturbing. It was another of his favorites.)

"...Lucia was a clever young woman, but her father had no appreciation of cleverness in a girl, and failed to recognize her talents. Her father's familiar was not so blind however..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two cases of quoting/paraphrasing my own fic. (whistles innocently) And I arbitrarily decided that one of the stories mentioned as being told by Chrono (to Joshua and Rosette) in the manga was its own story, and not a thinly veiled account of Chrono's adventures with Aion and the other Sinners--which is why our anonymous storytelling demon knows it.


	15. The Queen: Warfooting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rosette makes war preparations, and the Nazis try (and fail) to go magical artifact hunting in the ruins of Atlantis.

_Will you be ready? Can you go to war?_

In Chrono's memory there's this one moment; Mary telling him that he couldn't protect someone without hurting someone else. I was remembering that moment as if I'd lived it a day after Joshua spoke to Aion's spirit. I didn't want anyone to die, not the demons, and not the human soldiers that they'd be fighting. At the same time I knew that Mary was right. There were people I needed to protect, and the only way I could do that was by hurting someone else.

I watched my soldiers run an obstacle course from a gallery that overlooked one of the larger courtyards. Two other courtyards and a valley on the surface were also being used as training grounds. This particular course involved firearms with live ammunition. If I could have afforded it, those guns would have been loaded with gospels. "Once a exorcist, always an exorcist," Gil said lightly in response to my thoughts. "They aren't doing poorly enough to deserve that sort of punishment."

"I want them to start taking human weapons seriously," I said, giving Gil an irritable look. "Right now, half the time, they're taking the shot."

"Only because they _can_ take the shot," Duffau said. "Still, you are not wrong, they need to learn caution." Almost too fast to be seen, Duffau was in the air, hovering over the company. Green-yellow lightning spat from his hands, and destroyed one of the resin walls that had been set up, sending splinters and chunks everywhere. Most of the soldiers were able to avoid the worst of the shrapnel, but the ones nearest the wall weren't so lucky--they had to be carried off the court by their companions.

Duffau started shouting at the soldiers in the demon language--mostly insults and cursing--and chased the soldiers through the last leg of the obstacle course. He repeated the process for the next three squads to go through the obstacle course before returning, landing on the gallery's rail. "Perhaps they might take this more seriously if one bullet in twenty or thirty rounds were a gospel," he said.

I nodded. "I'll see if I can get some from the Order without drawing too much attention." There wasn't any way to mass produce the bullets created by the gunsmith and engineers of the Magdalen Order. Each bullet had to be individually shaped from alchemical silver and etched by a trained alchemist-engineer. It was easier to mass produce the guns--but they had to be made of alchemical steel, which was difficult to make or work with. This made both guns and bullets really expensive--the Order only made enough for themselves. I thought about it for a second. "How are our alchemical steel and silver stocks?" My question went through about three layers of clearance before I got an answer about a minute later.

"We have a slight surplus," Gil said.

"Duke Duffau, how do you feel about dropping in on the head of the New York branch of the Magdalen Order?" I asked, glancing at Duffau. Sister Kate and Duffau had a friendship where Duffau acted like the knight to the Sister's lady fair. I still wasn't sure of what to think about that, and I don't know what they saw in each other, but it seemed to work for them, even though it had almost gotten the Sister in trouble. Fortunately, we'd been able to prove that there wasn't any hanky panky going on. A panel of officials from the Order had ended up interrogating them both, with a geas on Duffau (which he volunteered for) to make him tell the truth.

"I'm always happy for the opportunity to visit Katherine," Duffau said.

It didn't seem to bother him at all that his little visit would be cover for a very unofficial transaction. Instead, I was getting the very annoying--isn't she the cleverest little thing?--feeling off of him. Proud, but also amused--the kind of amused reserved for someone younger, a rookie. He jumped off the railing and bowed. "When may I go, my Queen?" he asked with excessive formality.

"As soon as possible," I said.

"With your leave then," Duffau said with another bow, and headed off.

"I'll see to it that the appropriate agents are contacted," Gil said.

"Thank you," I said, and returned to watching my soldiers. Gil bowed and retreated.

* * *

**Mhari was on patrol at the twilight-depth when Seb, one of her cadre, sent her an alert: ** _ **"Submarine approaching treaty zone. It has no identifying marks."** _

_ **"Have you radioed the usual warning?" ** _ **Mhari asked. **

_**"Not yet," **_**Seb replied.** _**"Their course is definitely heading for the treaty zone, but they haven't reached the markers yet. They'll reach the markers within the next twenty to thirty minutes."**_

_ **"Contact the Americans. Ask if there are any training missions scheduled for this area," ** _ **Mhari said. ** _ **"Very casually mention the submarine, and request that they remember and respect the Treaty." ** _ **Submarines weren't allowed within ten miles of the Pandaemonium impact crater. It was on of the first agreements made between the humans and their Queen. **

_ **"Do you think it's the Americans?" ** _ **Ikari, another member of her cadre asked.**

_ **"No, but their response should prove enlightening," ** _ **Mhari said. ** _ **"When the unknown reaches the markers, send the warning." ** _ **Seb and Ikari gave their assent and obeyed. Mhari sent a databurst to both her commander and to the Embassy, and began to accelerate toward the markers. **

**Ikari and twelve Legion were arrayed in an uneven line thirty feet in front of the first two markers. Two other squads were approaching, one from above the submarine's current position, and one from below. Mhari recognized Lune and Hermes' squads--both were senior to her, but to her surprise, both Seniors took up support positions instead of taking command. ** _ **"You have control of this situation," ** _ **Hermes said. ** _ **"We will help you maintain it."** _

_ **"Unknown vessel, cease all movement immediately and identify yourself," ** _ **Ikari radioed as the long dark shape approached. ** _ **"You are approaching a restricted area, cease all movement and prepare to be boarded." ** _ **Ikari repeated the message in both French and German, but the only response from the submarine was the activation of a barrier--light flared green-gold along the hull and quickly enclosed the vessel in a protective sphere. **

_ **"The Americans say there are no training missions scheduled. They wanted to know if we knew the vessel's nationality. I said there were no distinguishing features," ** _ **Seb said. **

**The submarine began to accelerate, running toward the markers. Mhari's squad scattered to avoid the perimeter of the barrier, spreading out as much as possible. Lune and Hermes' squads did the same. ** _ **"Unknown vessel, entering this area without permission constitutes a breach of the Treaty and an act of war," ** _ **Mhari radioed. ** _ **"Cease movement at once." ** _ **The submarine kept moving.**

_ **"I think we've given them enough rope to hang themselves with," ** _ **Ikari said.**

_ **"Yes," ** _ **Mhari agreed. ** _ **"All squads forward, strafing-swarm maneuvers." ** _

**The water sizzled and steamed from the energy attacks as all three squads accelerated in elliptical orbits around the submarine, their distance attacks slamming again and again into the sphere barrier. The sub returned fire with a broadside of torpedos that gleamed the blue-white of alchemical steel. Ikari narrowly avoided the salvo, but two Legion weren't so lucky; they were destroyed instantly by the impact. **

**The combined return fire from Mhari, Lune and Hermes made the water blaze white, and physically knocked the submarine thirty yards backward. It dove, straight for Pandaemonium's footprint. Mhari decided that the humans on board were suicidal as well as stupid. Even with a barrier, human steel wasn't going to protect them for very long from the toxic glass that made up most of the seafloor surrounding the impact crater. ** _ **"We should let them fry," ** _ **Ikari said. **

_ **"No, the Queen will want them," ** _ **Mhari replied. ** _ **"Try to take them alive."** _

* * *

The rest of the battle had been very short--Mhari and the two other squads had peeled the barrier away, and then had broken into the submarine. The captain of the vessel had put up a good fight, and tried to kill himself--at the end. The submarine was being taken apart by the engineers and the crew--excepting the surviving officers, and the sorcerer--had been turned over to the U.S. Navy. Casualties had been light for the demons, but half of the submarine's crew had died when the sorcerer's familiars broke their geasa at a critical moment during the battle. The familiars had been contained, and were awaiting questioning along with the human prisoners.

Coming up out of a mission report is like waking up from a long, very realistic dream. I felt fuzzy headed and a little dizzy as I withdrew from Mhari's memories, and I could have sworn that the throne room was spinning. My hands were cupping Mhari's curved horns. She was almost curled up in my lap, a sight that probably looked very strange to the prisoners standing just off to the left. Which was a big reason why they were on hand to watch. The implication that I just _might_ be able to pull the thoughts right out of their head and project them onto a screen like I'd done to Mhari was intended to unsettle them.

Physical contact wasn't usually necessary, but deep-scans were protocol whenever a demon fought against a devil master. There were too many ways a sorcerer could screw up a demon's brain, but Mhari and the others seemed to be okay. Mhari shivered under my hands, and let me lift her face up. The shy smile she gave me looked entirely out of place on her strong, sharp-featured face. "Thank you Mhari," I said.

The demon smiled, as if I'd said something funny. "You're welcome, my Queen." She stood up and walked back to where her cadre was standing.

I looked over at the prisoners, who were pretending not to huddle as close to each other and as far away from the demons guarding them as possible. They were in chains and underwear, which was as much of a concession to human modesty (mine, not theirs) as the demons were going to allow them. "Herr Kapitan, I hope you plan on telling me what you thought you were doing," I said in German. "The region you entered is protected by treaty."

"Germany has signed no such treaty. I will tell you nothing." He gave me a stubborn and defiant look.

"Well, that's true," I said. "But what made you think you could waltz right in and do--whatever you thought you were doing?"

"I will tell you nothing."

I glanced over at the other prisoners--the sorcerer in particular. It was almost funny; demon master surrounded by demons, none of whom he can control. No tools, no wards, no carefully traced circles, and the combined will of all the demons in this room was a thousand times stronger than he was. He was an older man with the myopic squint of someone who's had their spectacles confiscated. He looked as if he were desperately trying not to show that he was scared pissless. Besides the ship captain and the sorcerer there were two junior officers and one professor of ancient history and occult studies. "You don't have to, Herr Kapitan, Herr Otto Albrecht has all ready told me."

The professor went red in the face. "I have done no such thing!"

"But you have," I said. "Your most recent paper--and your presence in Lemuria's throne room--is the same as a signed confession. 'It is clear,'" I quoted directly from the paper which appeared on one of the screens. I tried not to read the sarcastic little quips some wiseacre added to the manuscript. "'That diabolical forces are conspiring to keep us from the glories of the ancients.' Then you go on to quote Plato, and God help me, that damned science fiction novel the Vril Society likes so much. Somewhere in the middle you read off a list of all the 'conspirators' responsible for hiding the glories of Atlantis, and throw in a few quotes from _The Protocols of the Elders of Zion _as a bonus. The last paragraph indicates that brave, obviously Teutonic men must be willing to go forth as Prometheus did and steal the fire of heaven--and so on and so forth." Which made for a very strange metaphor. Stealing fire from the Devil...

"I have only written the truth," the professor said. "The devils and their dupes have conspired against the human race for millenia."

"Why would we bother?" Gilgamesh said. "Our purpose for those millenia was survival--of ourselves and Pandaemonium. Humans were only a sometimes useful nuisance. We had no need of conspiracies."

The professor opened his mouth to argue, but he instantly shut his mouth when one of the guards turned toward him. "You are going to talk, gentlemen," I said. "You are going to tell us everything we need to know, and then some."

"Your threats are meaningless," the ship captain said.

I smiled at him. "I wasn't making a threat. I was stating a fact." On my silent signal, the guards started ushering the prisoners out of the room. Just before they reached the doors I said, "Herr Albrecht?"

The professor half turned. "Yes?"

"The people of Atlas were only a little more advanced than most city-building cultures of the time. The construction of their buildings was mostly rammed earth and had very few stone buildings. The nearest settlements were completely obliterated by Pandaemonium's impact. The furthest settlements were sifted through for artifacts thousands of years before you were born--the usual pottery shards and garbage heaps that any true archaeologist prizes. If you want, we can provide you with the research papers."

He didn't know what to say, I could see it on his face. He wanted to call me a liar, he tried to find some kind of plot or trick to my words, then grimaced at me, like he wanted to make it a snarl. "Why this is hell nor am I out of it," he quoted, then turned stiffly, and went out the door with the other prisoners.

"Mephistopheles, from _Dr. Faustus _by Christopher Marlowe," Gilgamesh said with a slight smile. "Very dramatic."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote is from Dr. Faustus by Christopher Marlowe, a play about Faust, a legendary alchemist/sorcerer type. The Protocols of the Elders of Zion is a famous anti-Semitic book purporting to reveal the Jewish Conspiracy to Rule the World.


	16. The Angel: Between the Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Azmaria has a very bad, no good day.

Noise filled her head, washed it clear of all thought, all memory. Black feathers floated across her vision. For a moment she saw Satella's face, but Satella became Fiore and shattered like a china shepherdess.

_"Herr Doctor, you're killing her..."_

_"We are so close, we can't stop now!"_

_"If you use the receptor again, you may cause irrepairable brain damage"_

_"I believe that the risk is minimal, proceed_."

Sun, sea, and sand. Seagulls crying and the sound of wind, all of these were things she had always associated with Joshua. The first time she had seen him, had been in a dream. He had called to her, and she had answered. "You know me," he had said in the dream when she had asked him who he was. He had smiled at her, and reached out a hand to help her to her feet. She had been about to take it when she had awakened in one of the Magdalen Order class rooms.

Can't you hear the sound of wings?

She could see the house on the beach, and somehow she knew that she had to reach it. She knew that reaching it meant safety and protection, but she stood rooted to the ground by the demon standing in front of her. She could neither move forward or retreat, and the horrible scissor bladed arm opened and shuts with a crisp slicing sound that made her want to scream. She didn't remember his name, she only remembered that he was a monster, and she was only a very small and frightened girl who could sometimes work miracles. "The only way you can get to the house is through me," the demon said. "Not that I think you'll make it, you're nearly tapped out."

"What--I--" Terror turned her bones bones to water, and she could barely think--but she didn't have to; when the horrific blades snapped toward her she ducked and rolled, coming up in a crouch, her gun a sudden, comforting present in her hand. _"Take this!" _She screamed hoarsely, and fired again and again. The demon somehow dodged the first two bullets, but the third hit him in the shoulder, blew off the blade-arm and spun him like a top. The fourth one hit him midback, and slammed him into the sand. She fired again and again, even though the body wasn't moving until all of her bullets were spent.

She stood there trembling, gun clutched in her hands, watching the blood soak into the ground. She looked down at the blood and grime on her habit, and the mud on her favorite pair of boots. She wasn't a frightened little girl anymore--she was an adult, a member of the Madgalen Order. She killed demons, and exorcised spirits.

"You done now, girl?"

She whirled, and saw the same demon as before. He was dressed like a cowboy this time, with a black Stetson set low over his brow. He was thin, sharp featured and almost homely, his eyes shifting from so dark she couldn't see the pupils, to empty sockets that were sewn shut. Behind him was the sea, an endless ocean of green that lapped against the shore with a shushing roar.

"I'm done being afraid of you," she growled.

"You think so? Would it frighten you to know that all this time you've been coming here, I've been right beside you?"

"No," Azmaria said shakily. "You're dead, and I've exorcised spirits before."

The demon smiled. "Can't exorcise what belongs here, little girl." The demon gestured back up the beach toward the house. "Keep going then, if you aren't frightened," he said mockingly.

_"Astral levels at less than one percent..."_

_"...five percent..."_

_"...pulse increasing..."_

_"...eight percent..."_

_"...ten..."_

The woman wore a blouse that left her midriff bare, black denim pants and black leather boots. She sat with her feet set wide apart on the steps that led up to the porch, her elbows resting on her knees, and her head bowed. There was a black hat next to her, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Her hair was a very dark red, and her skin was very pale. She lifted her head and studied Azmaria for a moment. This was another person that Azmaria recognized with a thrill of dread. Why were they here in this place the reminded her so much much of Joshua?

"Now, where have I seen you before?" The woman asked. "Poor, sad little orphan girl, with nowhere to go, and no place to go home to."

Azmaria shivered, but didn't back down or look away. "I always have a place to go home to," she said softly. "I have friends and family that I chose for myself, who care about me."

"Are you sure of that?" The woman asked. "Didn't they desert you? Left you to search in vain for some sign of where they had gone? Left you to find and bury their bodies? Left you again, to protect you from what you couldn't possibly understand?"

"Who are you to judge them?" Azmaria asked. "It's true that I was angry that they had gone on without me. It hurt to see them sitting so quiet and still, and thinking that Chrono would never smile, and Rosette would never laugh again--but I can forgive them for that."

"What about Joshua?" The woman's smile was slow and cruel. "Can you forgive Joshua for what he's hidden from you?"

Hidden from me? She wanted to ask, but didn't--how could she be sure this being was telling the truth? "Whatever Joshua hasn't told me, I'm sure there's a good reason for it," she said. Her voice sounded strained to her own ears, and she knew with a sinking feeling that the demon sensed her uncertainty.

"Fear," the woman said. "Fear that you wouldn't understand, that you'd be disgusted. He's hidden the deepest feelings of his heart from you out of fear of what you might do or say."

"That doesn't matter to me," Azmaria said unsteadily. What could Joshua have hidden from her? What secret did he fear to tell her? "Joshua will tell me when and if he's ready to, and if he doesn't, if he can't, I can live with that."

"Can you?" The woman asked. "Then go on through that door, and see what you find there."

_"...twenty..."_

_"She's going into convulsions!"_

_"You idiot!"_

_"...diplomatic incident..."_

The man who answered the door was very tall, with broad shoulders and big, square hands. She recognized him too, the way she'd recognized the man on the beach and the woman behind her. The interior of the house was dark, but she could hear music--a piano--being played. "Listen," she said, interupting whatever it was he had been going to say. "Don't threaten me, or warn me about some dreadful secret that will make me hate Joshua--just tell me why you're all here."

"You'd have to ask him that," the man replied. "I don't know his mind." He stood aside to let Azmaria through the door. "Just follow the music."

On the second door to the right was a music room, with a writing desk, a piano, and a couch. She half-expected to find Joshua here, but instead she found a young man sitting at the piano playing melody that was almost familiar. His hair was white and long, and his ears were slightly pointed. In profile, he looked just like Chrono. "We are brothers after all, Miss Hendric," the man said, replying to her unspoken thought. The hands on the keys stilled, and he turned to face her. "Please have a seat."

She stepped into the room, and sat down on the couch. "Is--are you what Joshua is hiding from me?" She asked.

The young man smiled, and slid his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with one finger. "You come right to the point don't you, Songstress of Vegas? The answer to that is yes--and no."

"I don't understand," Azmaria said.

"It's not my job to enlighten you, miss," the young man said with a smirk. "My job is only to act as Joshua's agent in certain matters."

"What certain matters?" Azmaria asked.

"Private matters, secret matters, matters concerning young exorcists who get captured by the enemy while searching for evidence of diablerie."

"You were looking for me?" It was a disquieting thought. She had never sensed any presences or spirits looking for her.

"Still searching, actually," the young man admitted. "Your presence here notwithstanding."

"Where is here?" Azmaria asked.

"An outpost on the edge of Eternity," the young man said with a brief smile. "He created it during his training. In a manner of speaking. In this place, the symbolic representations of one's subconscious can take concrete form."

"Are you...images from his subconscious then?"

The young man shook his head. "No, Miss Hendric, we aren't."

_"We will hold them off for as long as possible, then regretfully inform them that Azmaria Hendric was shot while trying to escape."_

* * *

The bed was so comfortable she didn't want to move. She felt fuzzy with sleep and what might have been drugs. There was pain, but it was distant, drowned in a fog of not-feeling. Someone was sitting by the bed, a male with the gray-white skin that some demons had. He had dark eyes and saturnine features, and looked to be in his early thirties, which usually meant he was actually between three and six hundred years old. "How do you feel, Miss Hendric?" The demon asked in German-flavored English.

"Like I was hit by a train," Azmaria said hoarsely. "Where?"

"In a safe place, Miss Hendric," the demon said.

"That doesn't tell me very much." Azmaria frowned at the demon.

"It wasn't meant to, Miss. I am prevented from giving you a location or the name of my senior. I'm only allowed to tell you that you are in a safe place, and I'm to see to your needs. Are you hungry?"

"I--yes," Azmaria said, then flushed with embarrassment. "But I think I need to--" She tried to sit up, and the demon helped her immediately.

"The facilities are this way, allow me to help you," the demon said politely, and assisted her to the bathroom. Once that embarrassing bit of business was completed he helped her back into bed. "My apologies that there was no female availible to assist you." A pause. "The sorceress is still sleeping."

"The sorceress?" Azmaria said, jumping on that reference. "Who? Irene, is she here too?"

"I am not allowed to tell you that, Miss Hendric," the demon said. "I will get you something to eat." With that, the demon left the room.

Azmaria frowned at the door that the demon had left through. It had no peep hole, and there had been no sound of a bolt or lock when when the door had shut. Now that she was seeing more clearly, she noticed that the room that the walls were made up of palm-sized hexagon tiles fitted tightly together without mortar. There was a dresser off to the right, and a small table with a lamp to the left. The room didn't have the same kind of feel that the prison had, but she could sense that it had been heavily warded.

She puzzled over the things that the demon had said. Some undefinable thing in his behavior told her that he was under the control of a devil master, but he had spoken of his superior as a senior instead of master. Was the sorceress he mentioned Irene, or his mistress?

The demon returned pushing a cart with a samovar of coffee, and a plate with roast chicken, bread with butter, and boiled potatoes. Azmaria's stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she'd been on short rations for a very long time now. "You must eat slowly," the demon advised, helping her sit up and setting the tray in her lap. "We don't want it to come back up as quickly as it went down." The demon poured her a cup of coffee, and stood back, watching her eat. Azmaria ate slowly, and when she was done, the demon took the tray and set it back on the cart.

"I will be expected elsewhere soon," the demon said. "My superior will tell you what you need to know." He left her with a few magazines that were out of date by six months or more, and took the cart with him.

She had finished reading the third magazine when a new demon appeared. This demon had the same gray-white skin, but looked as if he were fifty or so, if he were human. He was taller, and his hair was a dark red. "Are you also restricted from telling me where I am?" She asked.

The demon smiled. "We are all restricted in some way, Sister Azmaria. Above this place is a facility, for instance. I can't tell you anything about its purpose, or who works there." In an apparent shift of topic, the demon asked, "are you aware of the missing device belonging to your adoptive father, Sister?"

The air seemed to go out of the room at those words. "The artificial womb," she said. The demon's smile was very strained, and he spoke slowly. Azmaria realized then that for the demon, this was the verbal equivalent of navigating through a briar patch.

"I am restricted from telling you where they are, and if they have been used successfully."

"I see," Azmaria said. There was more than one, and whatever experiments that the Vril Society conducted using them had been successful. "Is there any other way I could get this information?"

"Writing is the same as speech," the demon said. "Other methods may be detectable by my master."

"Then we'll have to get creative," Azmaria said.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lines were paraphrased from volume 2 of the manga.
> 
> Yes, scenes are being mirrored for Joshua and Azmaria. No, it's not because I have no imagination.


	17. Op and Magus: Down to Brass Tacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam checks in, and Chrono and Joshua get the run around.

**Sam**

The Kid was off with the British, having the same conversation with them that he had with the French. Ardath, Syn, and Embla were setting up some kind of contraption in one corner of the suite's parlor, and Chrono was giving Willis his first lesson. I was at loose ends until the various meetings that would be held tonight, and since I did have an idea of what Chrono was doing, and not a single one of what the hell Ardath was doing, I watched Chrono.

"I'd like you to listen to my voice, and only my voice," Chrono was saying.

Willis frowned. "Sounds like you're trying to hypnotise me or something."

"I am," Chrono said, looking amused at the look on Willis' face. "I'm going to see if I can teach you to 'hear' the song of work more clearly."

"That doesn't sound like such a good thing, seeing how that's apparently what's giving me the headaches," Willis said doubtfully.

"What you're hearing is more like radio static," Chrono said. "If you were tuned in, and understood what you were hearing, you wouldn't have headaches. Also, if you knew how to adjust the 'volume' you could turn it down--or off."

The lesson continued, and I turned my attention to newspapers provided by the English. I didn't much like what I was reading--the Russians had signed a non-aggression pact with Germany, something which definitely wouldn't last very long, and it looked like war would be breaking out any day now. Chrono and Willis' voices were a continuous murmur that was counterpoint to the device in the parlor, which sounded like a theremin. At some point, I dozed off and had one of those dreams where you think you're still awake. Beth in an evening gown singing "Gloomy Sunday" while The Kid played the piano should have tipped me off, but I was too busy flying a huge dragon shaped kite.

When I woke back up, the thing that sounded like a theremin was singing to itself while Embla fiddled with the holographic images hovering over it. From what I could see, it looked like a three maps of Europe, layered one on top of the other. I could also see the curls and swoops of demonic writing flickering within the holographic column.

Ardath and Syn were dressed in black three-piece suits, but Joshua and Chrono were wearing black tight fitting outfits with green and gold tabards over them--the only difference between them was that Chrono had more leather straps, and Joshua had boots instead of sandals. "...captured a German submarine attempting to go treasure hunting in Atlantis," Chrono was saying.

"Is there really something down there?" Willis asked. He was sitting forward on one of the chairs, dressed in a three piece suit, with his elbows on his thighs, and his hat hanging off of one hand.

"No, but they think there is," Joshua said, looking amused. He turned my way. "Syn can set up a call to your wife, Sam--you missed your check in. Again."

For a second I didn't get it, then I remembered. Whenever I was on missions that required a lot of traveling, I always called Beth every couple of days to see how she was getting on. I hadn't done that in the past few years though, since Joshua had me on cases that were usually pretty close to home. "Ah hell, Beth's gonna kill me," I said. I got up and straightened out my clothes, and followed Syn into the bedroom he was sharing with Embla and Ardath. A portable workstation had been set up on the writing desk in the corner of the room.

"How is this contraption supposed to work?" Beth's voice asked.

"You're all ready connected, Mrs. Tomlin." The second voice belonged to Emma Jenkins, Joshua's housekeeper. "All you have to do is talk."

I sat down at the workstation, and nodded when Syn said he'd be waiting outside. "Hello ladies," I said. A little message square popped up, asking me if I wanted to turn on the visual on my end. I clicked 'yes' and another, larger square popped up, showing me an image of Beth and Emma. From the image, it looked as if they were sitting in one of the offices at the Embassy. Beth looked tired, concerned, and even a little scared. I felt a pang of guilt about that. I hated worrying Beth. I wondered who or what had persuaded Beth to come up to New York and actually set foot in "The Devil's Palace."

"I'll give you two some privacy," Emma said with a smile, and left the room. It was just me and Beth.

"Sorry I didn't try to call sooner, honey," I said. I wanted to ask, _why are you at the Embassy? _But didn't. I couldn't think of a way to say it, in a way that wouldn't start an argument. "Things have been a little hectic."

"I don't mind that," Beth said. "I understand, and I was worried--you didn't tell me anything about where you were going, or what you'd be doing."

"Because I didn't know till I got there," I interjected. "That just the way it works sometimes."

"Yes," Beth said in a slightly harder tone. I winced. "I do realize that."

"Sorry, honey," I said. "I probably should have found the time to call before we left."

"You should have," Beth agreed. She smiled at me. "Now tell me what's going on--or at least what you can tell me."

I filled Beth in carefully, skirting around an specific classified details. Beth asked a lot of questions, which I answered, and told me about the grade Junie had gotten on a recent math test. I also found out what the heck Beth was doing at the Embassy; it turned out that the Queen was circling the wagons, so to speak, and requiring that the dependants of Lemurian employees take up residence at the nearest Embassy. I wondered who or what had convinced Beth to go along with it.

Syn came back into the room as I signed off. He had a black three-piece suit slung over one arm. "I brought your suit, you can change in here." He laid the suit out on the bed, and stepped back to stand by the door.

"Thanks," I said. "And thanks for setting up the call." I went over to the bed, and started changing out of my sleep-rumpled clothes, and into the suit.

"You're welcome," Syn said. "On both counts." He gave me a look that I couldn't really interpret. "It wouldn't do for a man of your standing to look as if he'd fallen asleep in his clothes."

"Well I did," I said. "I don't know what you mean by 'standing.' I'm just here to play bodyguard, and act as another pair of eyes and ears for the Kid."

Syn tilted his head. "You are an exceedingly modest man, Mr. Tomlin."

"I wouldn't say that, Viscount," I said as I finished dressing. "I'm just as likely to get a swelled head as anyone. I just realize that 'reputation' and 'standing' doesn't mean squat most of the time. Personal integrity is a hell of a lot more important, in my book than 'reputation.'"

"I see," Syn said. "You and I are to make arrangements with our opposite numbers concerning security measures, and to 'case the joint' as it were."

I nodded. "Let's get going."

* * *

**Joshua**

They ended up waiting several hours before they were able to speak with anyone. An official sent them to an official who sent them to another official before they were finally allowed to meet with a general. "I'm sure you can understand the difficulty of the situation Herr Director Christopher. Fraulein Hendric was engaging in espionage, and was captured," General Jager said.

"She was investigating rumors of diablerie taking place in Prague. Rumors which have been confirmed, Herr General Jager," Joshua said.

"That may be the case, but she is still guilty," Herr Jager said with an angry frown.

"Of espionage, or of being an Apostle?" Chrono asked. "We are aware that your Vril Society has been collecting the gifted."

"Of espionage, Lord Chrono, and of belonging to an organization that is in league with the enemies of the Reich," The General said. "And we have 'collected' no one, though it is true that the Vril Society is researching metapsychic talents. The people who participate are volunteers. In any case, Fraulein Hendric is according to all reports no longer blessed with the gifts of an Apostle."

"Be very careful of who you choose to call an enemy," Chrono said. "Or who you choose to make an enemy." There was a cutting edge to his voice, and Joshua could sense the slight psychic _push _Chrono gave his words.

The general looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with Chrono. "That's a very strong statement to make, Lord Chrono," the general said. "It borders on the edge of a threat, which you are in no position to make."

"That was in no way a threat, Herr General," Chrono said. "We hold the Magdalen Order in high regard, and Sister Azmaria is a close friend. We were greatly distressed to learn that Sister Azmaria had been detained by your people."

Joshua intensely disliked the New Reich Chancellery. The building loomed in an attempt to impress, and managed to be desperately ugly while doing so. Intellectually, he knew that his dislike of the building had more to do with his dislike of the Nazis than anything else, but he didn't care. He hated the building with its blocks and squared off edges and the muffled psychic silence of the barriers that had been placed over it.

_"The Queens Chamber is bigger, and we have murals," _Chrono murmured silently in the back of Joshua's mind. The thought was accompanied by agreement, and a trace of humor. The feel of the place--of the city--was ugly. Dark and terrible forces were being awakened, forces that had nothing to do with the supernatural, and everything to do with human fear and hatred.

Joshua smiled slightly. _"Lets say that I'm impressed, but not favorably." _

Despite the run around, Joshua thought that the initial meeting had gone very well. The Germans seemed determined to underestimate Lemuria. Or it might be better said that the Germans were _over_estimating their own sorcerous and metapsychic forces, if the some of the things the guide and the general had let slip during the meeting were any indication. They believed that their sorcerers were more than equal to the demons of Lemuria. _Good. Aion always said that the real idiot is the one who underestimates his opponent. _

In the company of a guide, they were shown around the Chancellery, had a few more informal meetings, and then went to dinner. Chrono had Joshua and Sam ask most of the questions, only interjecting occasionally with a question of his own.

"As you ordered, my Lord," he said aloud,"I made arrangements to speak with Albert Schenk, the director of the Vril Society, tomorrow morning, at half past nine." He wondered what the guide's superiors made of them so far. Germany was one of the countries that until recently, had refused to acknowledge Lemuria in any way. That they were doing so now, was actually something of a surprise. _On the other hand, they were also willing to make a deal with the Russians. So, maybe not a surprise after all. _

_"I did?" _Chrono asked with silent, humorous sarcasm. _"Funny, I don't remember doing that. Are you trying to make me seem more authoritarian?" _He asked, then said aloud, "good. Tell me everything you know about this man."

_"I'm sure you would have thought of it eventually brother," _Joshua replied, just as silently. _ "And yes, I am." _Aloud, he gave a detailed report about Schenk's life, from early education to his current position. The guide saw them to the door, where a car from the British Embassy was waiting.

When they reached the suite, two children were waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joshua's quoting of Aion comes from volume two of the manga.


	18. The Angel: The Cuckoo's Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Azmaria makes a few disquieting discoveries, Irene has Issues and the Creepy Kids attend a tea party.

She slept a great deal during the next few days. Her only visitors were the two demons, who wouldn't name themselves, referring to each other only as "Junior" and "Senior" in her presence. From the limited information she recieved from them, they were part of an conspiracy among the demons who had been enslaved by Vril Society sorcerers.

The exact goals of the conspiracy weren't very clear as much because the two demons literally _couldn't_ explain, as because they didn't want her to know. Azmaria wondered if Rosette had felt this confused--and alone--when she had been the "guest" of Duke Duffau's faction. _At least she was able to speak to them without resorting to code-breaking. _From what the demons said--and didn't say--they needed her assistance for some reason, and that reason had to do with the children the demons had helped the Vril Society create.

On what Azmaria thought might have been the third day, Junior entered her room with a wheelchair. "Your motor control is still a problem, and will be for quite some time, Sister," the demon said. "I will assist you."

Knowing that the question _where are you taking me?_ wouldn't be answered, she allowed the demon to help her into the wheelchair. Junior wheeled her out of the room, and down a long gray corridor. The air was cool, and the hallway was empty. "The sorceress has been in high dudgeon since her arrival," the demon said, sounding amused--and slightly annoyed.

"The sorceress has been a problem?" Azmaria asked. She was almost certain that the "sorceress" the demons occasionally referred to was Irene.

"The sorceress will hopefully become less of a problem," Junior said. "Our brother indicates that this is unlikely."

"Your brother knows the sorceress?" That probably meant the sorceress' familiar. Or former familiar, if they were talking about Irene.

"He has known her for some time," Junior said.

Her suspicions about the identity of the sorceress were confirmed by the sounds of argument that errupted at the end of the hallway. Irene's voices, growing more strident by the second, and a second, male voice. "Only cooperate, Irina Antonova, and you needn't worry about what Kaschei will do once freed."

"What, you'll protect me from one of your own kind? _I don't believe you_."

"You are safe enough now, sorceress," the male voice said. Azmaria now recognized the voice as belonging to Senior. "You are about to have a visitor," Senior said, and moved aside as Junior pushed the chair into a room that was nearly identical Azmaria's down the hall.

Irene sat on the edge of her bed, eyes red rimmed as if she'd been crying and her fists were tightly clenched. She looked at Azmaria in astonishment. "You're alive. But...how?"

"Subterfuge," Senior said. "We will leave so as to allow you to renew your acquaintance." The two demons gave brief nods to Azmaria, and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them.

For a moment, they were silent, just watching each other. "Kaschei is your familiar?" Azmaria asked finally.

"_Was_ my familiar," Irene said. "He was taken from me, along with the lesser elementals I controlled. That another now controls him won't stop him from getting his revenge however." The sorceress gave a bitter, angry laugh. "Now is where you say that I have only myself to blame, isn't it, Sister?"

"No, it isn't," Azmaria said. "This is where I say I will protect you from the mistake you made."

Irene laughed again. "How? Can you even get up out of that chair?" The sorceress took a deep, shaky breath. "And anyway, I'm an atheist. I want no help from the Magdalen Order or your Church."

"Then you won't be helped by the Magdalen Order, or the Church. You will be helped by Azmaria Hendric," Azmaria said firmly.

Irene's smile was brittle. "You can't help me, Sister."

"I'm certainly going to try," Azmaria said. Irene looked less than convinced. Azmaria sighed. "Have the demons said anything to you, about what they intend?"

Irene started to shake her head, then stopped the motion with a frown. "They refused to answer my questions--the geasa they are under are very restricting. They spoke in riddles, but I think they wish me to break the geasa."

"Did they say anything else?" Azmaria asked.

Another frown. "One of them spoke of cuckoos, and the other told me that I should ask you to tell me the story of the woman who married the Devil." Irene's brows arched in a sardonic expression. "As I said, they they spoke in riddles."

"The woman who married a devil--I wonder if they were talking about Lucia Segur?" Azmaria wondered aloud. At Irene's inquiring look, Azmaria explained. "Lucia Segur was the first jewel-summoner. Well, the first to formally develop a system for using her ability."

"And she married a devil?" Irene asked. "How did that happen?" An odd look crossed Irene's face, that Azmaria couldn't interpret.

"He was her father's familiar," Azmaria said. "They became friends and--"

"He tricked her into freeing him?"

Azmaria frowned. "No. Her father discovered her working an alien form of magic, and tried to interrupt the spell. Not out of malice, really, just because he was afraid and angry and not thinking. Johann--his name was Woden then--blocked her father, and when her father tried to punish Woden, she broke the geas." Seeing the look on Irene's face, she said, "Johann didn't kill her father--he just left." She smiled. "He turned up a few years later as Johann Faust, and courted Lucia. Johann never went into details about the marriage--mostly because he didn't want to give away how he managed to pass as human."

"You are personally acquainted with this demon." It wasn't quite a question.

"He was the great, great, great grandfather of a friend of mine," Azmaria said. "Satella Harvenheit. After Satella died, her family contacted me, and I became friends with Satella's cousins, her great-aunt, and Herr Faust." Azmaria sighed. "Poor Satella never knew about her heritage, she had been too young to tell, and after, too angry to tell about her family's history."

Irene stared at her. "You are implying that Satella was part demon--that isn't possible, demons are sterile with humans."

Azmaria shook her head. "That isn't quite true. Demons may or may not be compatible with humans depending on a variety of factors. Usually, no demon can impregnate or become pregnant because there is a geas that renders them infertile. All reproduction is controlled by the Queen and her technicians who are in charge of creating the next generation."

"But somehow, this Satella's anscestor removed the geas?" Irene asked.

"Not removed, so much as took it over," Azmaria said. "I don't know all the details, of course, because it's a very private thing. I wonder why Senior and Junior mentioned--" Azmaria fell silent. All the hints and implications of the past few days fell together in a neat row, just then. "Oh no," Azmaria heard herself say in a strained, distant voice. "They are speaking quite plainly. The children are only partly human."

"Now you're the one speaking in riddles," Irene said disgustedly. "What children?"

Azmaria took a deep breath. "The children created by the Vril Society. With the artificial womb invented by Ricardo Hendric and Lerijie, and the assistance of the demons."

* * *

"Do you understand what we are asking of you, Miss Hendric?" Senior said once she had been returned to her room.

Azmaria shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't."

"Hnn," Senior said, giving her a speculative look. "You understand what we have done--or perhaps not, not entirely," Senior said. "How much do you know about how demon children are raised?"

"I know that demons don't really have 'families,'" Azmaria said. "They're kept in the Creche until they reach a certain age, and can take the 'rite of attunement.'" Or they were, when the demons had still been living in the great world-ship Pandaemonium. She wasn't sure about what the demons were doing now, if anything.

"It would be more correct to say that we have only one family," Senior said. "We are raised and taught by our brothers and sisters." The demon smiled. "Very strictly. There are tests children must pass, and failure results in a lower ranking, or sometimes even death, if a problem can't be corrected. Please don't misunderstand--" he said at her reaction to the mention of death. "We are strict because we have to be. And our standard for 'uncorrectable' is very, very high."

"I've seen the results of your standard," Azmaria said, meaning Aion and the Sinners.

"So have we," Senior said with a grimly humorous smile. "So has the entire world, I think. That's why we did not apply that standard in the current situation."

"The situation is similar," Junior said. "But not alike. The environment is close but not--" the demon fell silent for a moment. "Identical. There are no elder brothers here for them. No templates or exemplars of correct behavior." The demon blinked, and turned to Senior, as if he'd just realized something. "An example of a template?"

"You've just discovered that?" Senior asked, sounding amused. "Junior's function was to create an opening," he said, explaining his exchange with the other demon. "You and the sorceress will create another."

"You want me and Irene to be--templates?" Azmaria asked.

"They do not trust or care for their human creators. And though they may deny it, their human creators fear them, and rightly so," Senior said with slow care. "Yet they are children. You are needed, if the children will survive."

"I-I'm not sure what I can do," Azmaria said. _Or what you want me to do_. "But I'll try."

* * *

"So, what is supposed to happen now?" Irene asked a few hours later. They had been taken to another room and left. A table had been set up on one side of the room with sandwiches that had been cut into little triangles, tea, and a tin of cookies. "They've certainly gone to a great deal of trouble. An English tea, on a budget."

"We meet the children," Azmaria said. She smiled at the comment about the English tea. Azmaria had thought it looked like a child's tea party.

Irene gave Azmaria a sour look. "And they go back and tell their teachers about the nice ladies they met, and the demons' plot falls completely apart."

"That might happen," Azmaria said. "But I don't think it will."

"How do you know this?" Irene demanded. "Something the demons told you?"

Azmaria shook her head. "No. It's just a--feeling I have." She wasn't going to mention that she'd seen--and spoken to--the children in a dream. Whatever they were doing, they were doing it independantly of adult supervision or control, and they did not want those adults to know what they were doing. "Though the demons did say that the children didn't like their creators." _Their _human _creators, specifically._ The demons hadn't mentioned what had caused the dislike, if anything. She wondered if she should be worried about the omission.

"Will they like us any better?" Irene asked with an acidic tone.

As she spoke, the door opened, and two children, a boy and a girl about nine years of age entered. They were pale and fair-haired, the girl in pig tails and a dress, the boy in a shirt and short pants. Perfect little doll-children with blue-glass eyes, and blank faces. "Hello," the girl said, and was echoed by the boy.

"Hello," Azmaria said, and gave Irene a glare until she offered a reluctant greeting. "Would you like something to eat?" She nodded toward the table.

The children nodded, and went to sit down at the table. Azmaria wheeled the chair over to the table, and was followed an instant later by Irene. "We are Siegfried and Sieglinde," the boy said.

"I'm Azmaria," Azmaria said, and gave Irene a glare until the Russian reluctantly introduced herself. "We're very pleased to meet you," Azmaria continued, then glared at Irene's sarcastic huff.

"Thank you, we're pleased to meet you," the children chorused.

"We've wanted to meet you since we became aware of you," the boy said once plates were filled and tea was poured. "Both-you," he said, looking at Irene. "Your symbols are very clear, and complex," he said to Irene.

"My symbols?" Irene asked. "What do you mean?"

"A house on chicken legs," the boy said. "A rider in black, and a girl playing with a doll in the dooryard. Winter becoming spring. Another house, and angry voices, two men who are fighting with words that are knives, and a girl who strikes the winner down with lightning."

Irene's expression went from curious, to amused, to apalled. She said something in Russian, sharp and angry, then said in German, "I do not think that is something you should pry into."

"Those are your symbols," the boy said. "It's not prying when the other person is shouting."

"We were told to speak honestly, and not say what you might want to hear," the girl said with a frown. "They said you would not like lies, were they wrong?"

"Of course not. Irene is only upset that you can see her so plainly. Most people can't see the way you apparently do," Azmaria interjected over Irene's sputtering outrage. "Is it polite to ask your symbols, if someone can't see them?"

"Bright red leaves falling, and the sound of wind through leaves," the girl said.

"Wet pavement, and oil-rainbows in a puddle of water," the boy said. "You are crosses-in-rows, and rain."

"A sad song, and the sound of a gun," the girl continued. "You visit the symbols of the other one, who we saw first because he saw us. The house by the sea, and the noise that doesn't hurt."

Azmaria shivered. She sensed that the children weren't trying to be disturbing, but that almost made it worse. Irene was giving her a curious, speculative look. "His name is Joshua. He was looking for you, and you were looking for him?"

"Yes," the children said in unison.

"We were looking for others-like-us," the boy said. "He was looking for you."

"The one whose house is by the sea is in Berlin," the girl said in a conversational tone. "They said if we helped you, you could help us."

"Who are 'they,' and what 'help' do you want?" Irene asked. "The one whose house is by the sea?"

The children shook their heads. "'They' are demons," the girl said. "'Help' is for going away and not coming back."

"We are not-like-them, and it's too hard pretending-likeness," the boy said.

"How do you think we can help?" Irene said.

"You know," the girl said. "You are to your people, what Azmaria is to her people."

Irene started at that. "How--? Of course the demons must have--" She gave Azmaria a sideways glance. "I am an agent of the GUGB," she admitted. "Foreign intelligence. I was investigating rumors in the occult community in Austria when--" She shrugged. "I'm not sure what you think we can do," Irene said to the children.

"We can learn what you know," the boy said. "If you will let us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is a very specific reason Irene has Baba Yaga and Vasilisa the Wise in her headspace. I'm not just being hopelessly cliched here. Hopefully, I got the agency/department right. The timeline for Soviet secret services on Wikipedia was a little confusing.


	19. Interlude: I Do Not Like Thee, Doctor Fell

_"We can learn what you know, if you will let us."_

"Learning is not the same as experience," the nun said. "Also, from either of us, you might learn things you should not know."

Sister Azmaria seemed to understand what the children were talking about, where Irina could only guess. And what Irina could guess at, frightened her.

"It goes both ways," the girl said.

Sister Azmaria smiled. "Things you shouldn't _have_ to know," she said, as if she were clarifying some point.

"We can use what you know," the boy said. "You will show us what to do." As he spoke, his eyes seemed to become silver mirrors that Irina fell into like Alice. Distantly, she heard herself cry out, heard the nun gasp as the room seemed to vanish.

She should have felt frightened, but instead, she felt submerged in a distant calm. Images flickered around her, half familiar and strange, things she had only seen in her dreams, books she had read, memories. Things she longed for, things she never wanted to see or do again. Her life was being rummaged through the way a child explores an attic. _"No. Stop. I didn't agree to this," _Irina cried out.

_"We need what you know," _a child's voice said.

_"This is an invasion!"_

She received one of her own memories as an answer: Binding Kaschei to her after her father had been defeated by Nikolai, her mentor. Kaschei had been tired, and she had been lucky enough to break through his defenses before he could attack. _"You invaded him," _the child pointed out.

_"That's entirely different," _Irina protested. _"A demon freed of his geas goes mad! I had to bind him before he killed me."_

_"You didn't have to do this," _the memory of Kaschei's voice whispered.

_"Demons lie," _Irina said, the feeling of anger--and guilt--shimmered and faded beneath the glassy calm. _"Their word cannot be trusted." _She had been right to bind Kaschei, there had been no other choice.

_"There is no other choice," _a child's voice echoed her thought. _"We do not want to die," _the children said, and then they showed her: **Confined in a dark place, starving, no light no sound. Strapped to a table, white-coated doctors armed with scalpels. Strapped to a different table, electrical shocks and convulsions. Drugs and poisons and the doctors in white and the sorcerers in black, fear and anger born from fear and helplessness.**

Irina cried out as the images overwhelmed her, as she died over and over again from horrific "experiments." The idea came and went that the children were very powerful, and very strange, but they were still children. Children could be tricked, manipulated, lied to, even children with power--because children needed adults.

What surprised Irina, was that the children knew it.

For a time, "Irina Antonova" vanished beneath waves of memory. Her identity merged with the strange group mind of the children, and also with the mind of Sister Azmaria. She remembered losing her parents, and being shuffled from relative to relative. She remembered (at the same time, and worlds away) a poem she had to recite in school. She remembered sneaking out after curfew to listen to a demon tell stories. She remembered everything, and learned everything she needed to know before carefully returning herselves to a state of normal awareness of her surroundings.

When Irina surfaced, she found herself lying on a mattress, surrounded by a half-dozen children. Beside her on another mattress lay Azmaria. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be deeply asleep. One of the children, (Geoffrey) shook his head before Irina could attempt to awaken her. "We're keeping her asleep," he said softly. "The gestalt took too much out of her."

"She won't be very happy with you, when she wakes up," Irina said. "She hates it when people try to coddle her." Then she frowned. She didn't wonder how she knew that, she wondered how she could mention it so casually. As if Azmaria were a friend or acquaintance whose quirks and habits were known and familiar to her.

"We know," Geoffrey said. "But it's still better for her to sleep right now."

"I suppose," Irina said. She felt perfectly at ease, and strangely confident, all of her fears and worries muted or entirely absent. Glancing again at Azmaria, she thought she wouldn't have minded going back to sleep herself. For the first time in a very long time, she felt as if she _could _sleep, sleep and not awaken again from nightmares....

"There's still a great deal left to do," a girl named Ilsa said. "We've learned how to fight from you, but we need you to guide us."

* * *

The second time, mental contact with the children wasn't so overwhelming. Irina was awared of her surroundings, and there was not loss of self. It was almost like seeing through the eyes of a familiar spirit, multiplied many times over.

First order of business; dispose of the sorcerers, and disrupt communications and power.

There were four sorcerers working directly with the project, and there were two more who were assigned to the security detail. Only two of the sorcerers were Devil-Masters, the others had minor elementals and spirits. To draw the sorcerers in, wards were deliberately tripped through out the facility.

The first sorcerer was on watch duty that night, and he relaxed visibly when he caught sight of two of the children, who were playing with a ball. As he strode forward to scold the children, nails hurled by telekinesis pulped the back of his head. Two more sorcerers were dispatched in a similar manner, one near the adult quarters, and one outside the building. The fourth however was able to turn the tables on his attackers. A child died, and four more were horribly burned before Irina was able to shatter the sorcerer's barriers. Once she had done that, the children were able to kill him quickly.

In a strange way, the two Devil Masters were the easiest to defeat. Irina knew from personal experience that the greatest strength and the greatest weakness of a Devil Master were his demons. A sorcerer struggling to maintain control of his demons would be distracted and vulnerable to attack. A sorcerer who _lost_ control of his demons died.

The moment the wards were tripped, the demons revolted against their masters. One sorcerer died almost instantly--he had grown complacent and entirely too sure of his power, and as a result, was too slow to act. The demons broke their geas and tore him apart. The second sorcerer had greater control, but he was so blindly furious with his familiar that he didn't see the children who killed him. The children contained the freed demons, pulling them into the gestalt (the demons' anger ebbed almost instantly, something Irina hadn't expected). Once the demons had recovered, they joined the battle.

At the same time, a group of children took over the generator, cutting power to most of the facility. Other groups cut the telephone lines, and took over the radio room, killing the two soldiers on duty there. Another group of children located the weapons locker--they weren't tall enough or strong enough to pick up the rifles with their hands, so they used their minds instead.

Guarding the facility were fifty soldiers. The soldiers were mostly focussed outward rather than inward, which Irina thought would be a slight advantage. The children, aided by the demons began killing soldiers. The air was full the of smell of gun powder, the sounds of rifles firing, and energy blasts from the demons. Nails and sharp rocks and bits of glass flew through the air, twisting and turning at impossible angles, slicing the enemy to pieces. The soldiers were surprised, but rallied quickly; their counter attack killed five children, and wounded twenty others. Irina directed the children to pull back and let the demons finish of the rest of the soldiers.

The battle between the children and the guards in the underground labs was short. Three of the ten guards were ambushed and dispatched before they could cry an alarm. Now with guns, the children were able to capture the remaining guards and three of the doctors present in the labs were captured and locked in holding cells, and the prisoners were released, and helped to the upper levels of the facility. They were taken to the facility's cafeteria, which had been set up as an infirmary and holding area for the teachers, doctors and other staff.

In the aftermath of the battle, Irina felt dazed and disconnected. Information was still coming in from the children, but it was background noise she had trouble focussing on. Someone handed her a cup of tea, and she just sat there holding it for several minutes before taking her first sip. No word had gotten out, and the demons were helping the children create a barrier. This worried her; this place couldn't possibly stand against a long term siege.

_"It won't be long at all," _Siegfried said reassuringly. _"We've already sent for help."_

_"Who?" _Irina asked.

It seemed to her that Siegfried was about to reply, but then there was a slight pause. _"I've been told not to tell you."_

_"What?" _Irina asked. Irritation burned through the fog. _"Why?"_

_"You'll see," _Siegfried said, and gently cut the mental contact.


	20. The Master: Dogfight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes get the fuck out of Dodge.

They were both about nine, a boy and girl. The boy wore lederhosen and the girl wore a dirndl. They were fair haired, and blue eyed Their expressions were as blank as a doll's. They stood so still, they might have been made of porcelain instead of flesh and bone. Their barriers were strong, but despite that, their fear filled the room.

They saw me as a large, potentially dangerous Presence. They saw a hawk, and imagined themselves to be mice. They saw a wolf, and imagined themselves as two fawns. Below the fear was determination; they needed--wanted my help. As frightened as they were of me, there was something even more frightening, that they wanted no part of. Something they hoped I could aid them against.

I glanced a question at Embla, who was standing near her equipment in the corner of the room. "Lord Chrono, they turned up shortly after you left. I don't know how, but they slipped past security, I didn't even know they were here, until they knocked on the door. I would have sent word, but--"

"It might have been intercepted by a demon under the control of the Vril Society," I said.

Embla nodded. "It seemed better to wait for your return," she said.

I approached the children, who stood as if rooted to the floor, and sat down on the floor cross-legged in front of them. They joined me on the floor, and for a very surreal moment, it felt as if they were about to ask me to tell them a story. Instead, the children dropped their barriers to me, and invited me into their minds. In the next few moments, it became very clear that our strategy had been anticipated, and planned for.

I wasn't surprised, no, I wasn't surprised at all, though I imagined the humans who had created the children in the first place had been very surprised. Rosette wasn't surprised either, but then, she'd only been a little older when she decided to become my Contractor. She understood better than most that even children could have the determination and will to act. On the other hand, I could sense that she was unnerved--and worried--about how quickly the children had gone into action.

_"If kids can figure out our strategy--" _Rosette said uncertainly.

_"They had help," _I replied. _"On several fronts. Azmaria, the demons, and that sorceress." _

That seemed to reassure her. _"Speaking of fronts, we've located the anchor points of the barrier; we're in position," _Rosette said.

"Joshua," I said as I sent Rosette a silent acknowledgement. "I don't think you'll be attending that meeting after all."

"Should I call to cancel, Lord?" Joshua inquired, completely deadpan.

"I don't think that will be necessary," I said in the same tone.

Joshua laughed, and disappeared into the bedrooms to get weapons, and any thing else we were going to need. Ardath did the same for his partners, while Embla took apart and destroyed her surveillance equipment. The children watched, and were very agreeable when Embla quietly called them over, and enlisted their "help."

"Anna and Ernst's siblings are currently attempting to take over the facility where they were born," I said for the benefit of Sam and Michael Willis. (The former had been waiting patiently for an explanation, Willis looked entirely lost) "They're working in concert with a number of demons and Azmaria." I waited a moment to let that sink in. "Mister Willis, you, Embla and Syn are going to be taking the children to the Queen," I said, and gave Embla and Syn the location. "Syn and Embla will be filling you in on details. Myself, Ardath, Sam and Joshua are going to the facility where Azmaria is."

As I spoke, Joshua and Ardath returned, loaded down with armor and weaponry. Joshua was wearing his sword, and a pistol in a shoulder holster. He handed off guns, holsters, ammunition and shock sticks to both Willis and Sam. Sam showed Willis how to use the shock stick, and everyone involved themselves in arming themselves or their partner.

When everyone was ready, I glanced at Joshua, who nodded, and drew the sword he'd inherited from Aion. A strange sort of silence seemed to spread out from the sword--from Joshua--as his eyes focussed on something only he could see. He held the sword up point first, while everyone backed up away (Sam had to tug Willis' arm to get him out of the way). He positioned the sword just before his left shoulder, and swung it slowly to the right. The path of the sword inscribed a line of bright blue in the air. The line became a circle, flaring a brilliant white, and sending out a ripple like heat distortion in the air before the circle faded back to blue. "Rizelle. Genai. Viede." Each name seemed to drop like stones in the silence, and Joshua's voice had become something sharp and strange, compelling and dangerous. "Come to me now."

Reality seemed to shift sideways for a moment, then Genai stood by the door in jeans and checked shirt, looking the same as he had when he was alive, before Pandaemonium had taken his eyes. Next to him was Viede in a dark suit, and Rizelle in jeans and a shirt that left her midriff bare. Familiar and strange because they were all younger in appearance than they'd been when I had seen them last. Younger, healed of their wounds, but still dead, shades under Joshua's command; or not quite under his command, because Genai demanded, "High handed brat, who the hell do you think you are, anyway?"

"Your landlord, Genai. All I want is the rent." Joshua sounded slightly breathless, as if he had been running hard. He also sounded very amused.

Genai started to to retort, but Viede clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Genai quieted. "Why have you summoned us, ecetera," Viede said with a slight smile.

"I need you and Genai to provide a distraction," Joshua said. "I don't care what gets broken, but don't get too carried away, and don't get caught."

"Understood," Viede said, and both Genai and Viede disappeared, leaving Rizelle.

The circle faded away. "Rizelle. Go to Norton, and tell him, 'Joshua says he needs to make an unexpected departure, but hopefully not like the one you had to make in Chicago.'" As Joshua spoke, he sent me: **Riding a motorcycle, Norton's arms wrapped around his waist. A voice shouting in his ear, "you are out of your bloody mind, Christopher!" They were being chased by lesser elementals and a furious coven, and the memory of Joshua's glee at having tricked them was tempered by his concern for Norton. **

**"I know, it's part of my charm!" Joshua said. "Hold on, I'm about to make a jump--"**

**"You're what? Oh for the love of--!" **

Wrapped up in the memory was a sense of the man. Norton was reliable, and as honest as an intelligence agent could afford to be. Joshua was fond of him, and considered him a friend, which was probably part of the reason Alec Norton had been assigned here as a liason.

Aloud he said, "Lets get this show on the road, folks." With that, both he and Joshua took the lead out the door. I took up a position just behind Sam's left shoulder, and the others arranged themselves behind us.

I nudged Sam slightly as we walked down the hall. He looked up at me with a curious look. "Am I allowed to guard my own ass?" I asked in an undertone.

For a moment, Sam went blank, then flushed as he remembered the time he had chewed me out in front of a lot of people for killing a would-be assassin. He recovered quickly. "Knock yourself out, sir," he said. "We're not exactly playing nice here."

"Oh thank you," I said with a grin.

We found Norton at the entrance, standing in front of the doors. Alec Norton was a tall, good looking man with dark hair and grey eyes. He wasn't visibly armed, and I couldn't sense anyone nearby. "Good evening gentlemen," he said, and nodded to Embla. "And lady." He did a very good job of pretending he wasn't surprised by the presence of the children or by the way we were very obviously prepared for combat. "I hope our hospitality hasn't been so bad you feel the need to leave in force, my Lord?"

"There's nothing wrong with British hospitality," I said. "We're simply going out for some fresh air."

"In the country--take in the sights, that sort of thing," Joshua said in a deadpan tone of voice. "Could we borrow a couple cars, Alec?"

"Ah--" he hesitated. I didn't blame him for it--the Germans were going to be very unhappy with with the Lemurian emissaries, and anyone who helped them.

"Could we _steal_ a couple cars?" Joshua grinned as he said it, but I could sense that he wasn't quite joking with Norton. I could also sense that Norton knew this.

Alec Norton smiled briefly. "That won't be necessary, Joshua. I'll have a couple cars brought around."

Norton very quickly acquired cars for us, and followed us out, to speak to Joshua. They filled each other in, and I had to supress a grin as Norton coerced a promise of a more detailed report later from Joshua. "How are you planning on getting past the check points?" Norton asked.

Joshua smiled slightly. "By going over them," he said.

"Ah hell," Sam said, glaring at Joshua. "Kid--"

"It's perfectly safe, Sam," Joshua said in a reassuring tone that just made Same look even more annoyed.

"I _hate _flying."

Norton's eyebrows lifted at this exchange, but he said nothing as Joshua set his sword point first on the ground. Head bowed, he began to speak in the demon language--specifically, in the verbal short hand used by technicians and engineers when programming. Circuit formations of blue light spun out from the sword, and sank into both vehicles. The two cars glowed blue, then white, encased in winged shapes that resembled the outline of a flyer. "Impressive," Norton said. "And a great deal more comfortable than that motorcycle in Chicago."

Joshua laughed. "I don't do this very often, it takes a lot of energy," Joshua said. "You should be able to key into the flyer-shells to maintain the spell," he said to Embla. "The code is -" and he said something in the short hand.

Embla nodded, and repeated the code back to Joshua, then smiled. "Ardath will not cause trouble. But if he does, let me know."

"Embla!" Ardath protested--but he also smiled. "Be careful," he said. There was a great deal of warmth in his voice.

"Romantic farewells," Embla said with a smile of her own, and turned with Syn to usher the children into their car.

Joshua said his own goodbye to Norton, and then we were off. Joshua was in the pilot seat, I was next to him in the front, and Sam was in the back. Ardath would be outside, acting as an escort. Once we were in the air, Joshua said, "Rizelle?"

"They're in position," Rizelle's voice said.

"Give them the go ahead," Joshua said, and distant thunder could be heard as fire balls blossomed in the city below. "Tell them to remember what I said about not letting themselves get caught."

"Genai says don't tell him how to kill sheep," Rizelle said.

"I'm filled with confidence," Joshua said. "Really."

It took some time for the Germans to get planes in the air, and some more time for them to find us. Ardath spotted them first, fortunately, and shielded us from the first strike. The dogfight between Ardath and the first two planes were very short. Ardath, faster and with greater maneuverability in the air, was harder to hit. He dove at the first plane, smashing into the cockpit to get at the pilot. The pilot was armed with a pistol, and managed to fire off a few shots which Ardath ignored as he ripped the human's throat out. The second plane fired on Ardath, which knocked him off the first plane--he tumbled a few hundred feet before he could recover.

Meanwhile, I silently directed Joshua to swing the car around in a wide arc, and used my distance attack on the second plane. Joshua responded almost before I could form the thought--his mind suddenly and completely in tune with mine. A burning stream of force lanced through an opening instantly created as I made the attack struck the plane. The attack blew off a wing and tore a hole in its side. The plane spun downward, and was blown apart by Ardath as he regained altitude.

More planes appeared, and we fought them off. They were geared more toward fighting other planes instead of demons, and were at a severe disadvantage as a result. Despite that disadvantage, Ardath was severely hurt twice, but I opened my link to him, and gave him some of my energy so that he could heal himself more quickly. I also fed a line of power to Joshua so that he could make the car go faster. Sam, not able to do very much except hold on tight, mostly kept quiet, though he proved very helpful during dogfights, spotting openings with surprising accuracy.

We reached the facility where Azmaria was just as Rosette made her attack.


	21. Angel and Magus: Date With an Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chrono gets authoritarian, Irene gets hysterical, and Joshua gets Azmaria.

**Azmaria**

Azmaria woke slowly from tangled dreams to find herself in a small bedroom. The bed was narrow, and the mattress sunk in slightly toward the middle. There was a wardrobe and a chest of drawers against one wall, and a window with white curtains. It room felt recently lived in, which immediately made Azmaria feel uneasy. Someone had slept in this room, someone who wasn't here now, and might not be anywhere any more.

A faint scratching, shifting noise drew her attention--sitting at a little writing desk not far from the bed was a demon she hadn't seen before. His shoulder-length silvery hair contrasted with both his dark skin, and the dark suit he wore. The demon appeared to be drawing on a sketch pad, his expression so focussed she didn't think he'd noticed that she had awakened until he looked up with a slight smile. His eyes were a muddle of green and brown, and his cheeks and brow were marked by pairs of red eyespots. "Good morning, Sister Azmaria," the demon said, setting pencil and sketch pad down. "How are you feeling?" His German had a slight accent to it, one she couldn't quite identify.

"Better," Azmaria said, sitting up. She still felt stiff, and a little numb, so her movements were slow and careful. "Can you tell me what's happening now?"

"We have a barrier set up around the facility, and most of the humans confined to the cafeteria," the demon said. "The Vril Society and the army haven't been able to get their feet under them to deal with this rebellion, due to various factors." The demon smiled slightly, and continued before she could prompt him. "The first factor is that Germany has recently invaded Poland--so most of their attention and power is focussed there. The second factor is this plan of the defectors, which took an interesting turn when they realized who *you* were, Sister."

Azmaria felt her face heat. "I-I try to avoid that kind of notoriety," she said. It wasn't something that would be appropriate for a member of the Order to trade on.

"It still brings in the third factor," the demon said. "The Queen, and the Master. What was a simple case of cuckoos laying their eggs in the Vril Society's nest became something else entirely."

"You speak as if you were not a part of the faction that created this plan," Azmaria said.

The demon smiled. "I'm not, or at least, I wasn't until recently. I was recruited because I was in a good position to help retrieve you."

"Thank you," Azmaria said. She knew it sounded a little hollow, but gratitude came a poor second when she knew what was happening to the people still being held prisoner by the Vril Society. Azmaria imagined Satella--or Rosette's exasperated, _what good would it do anyone if you _hadn't_been rescued?_ She smiled at the imagined words.

"Don't thank me," the demon said. "Thank Irina, I helped because I was promised that the conspirators would rescue her as well."

"You're Kaschei?" Azmaria asked. "But--" In her experience as an exorcist, she'd never come across a demon who went to such lengths to protect their master--or a former master. Even in the rare cases where they didn't immediately attempt to seek revenge, she had never witnessed or heard of a demon--freed or captive--who actively _helped_ the sorcerer who had controlled them.

"We don't have the usual relationship," Kaschei said.

"Irene seems to feel differently," Azmaria pointed out. She could sense that he was telling some variety of the truth--but Irene had seemed genuinely afraid of him.

Kaschei laughed. "That's because she's the stereotypical morbid Russian," he said. "I admit to having been furious with her at first but--" Kaschei shook his head. "But she let her fear take over, and her mentor did a great deal to convince her I couldn't be trusted." He laughed again, though this time with a note of self-contempt. "If _my_ mentor were here, she'd say I had obviously lost my mind, to have trusted a human in the first place." He set the sketch pad and pencil aside and rose to his feet. "Do you think you can walk, Sister?" He picked up a cane that had been leaning against the desk, and offered it to her.

"I think so," Azmaria said, and took it from the demon. She stood up carefully, leaning against the cane. She took a step, and a another, her left foot dragging slightly as she walked.

Kaschei accompanied her to the cafeteria, where a crude infirmary had been set up. There were two dozen pallets on one side of the room. the occupants were being tended by demons and adults--_the former prisoners_. The surviving doctors, teachers, sorcerers and soldiers were all gathered together on the opposite side of the room, where children and demons were standing guard. In what was more or less the middle of the room, food had been set out on the few tables still in the room.

"How bad were the casualities?" Azmaria asked as she slowly made her way toward the food. "Where is Irene?"

"Out of ninety eight children, fifteen died, and twenty nine were critically wounded," Junior said, appearing at her elbow.

Azmaria stopped, suddenly sick. "Oh no." She had been terribly afraid of what might happen to the children if they went through with the plan. If there had been anyway she could have stopped them, if there had been any other alternative--

"The numbers--" Junior began.

"Not helpful," Kaschei interjected. He added something else in the demon language that made Junior look away for a moment.

"If there had been an alternative--we would have taken it," Junior said finally. "Come have a seat," he said, and walked her over to one of the tables. "Irene is currently being distracted in another part of the building," Junior said, giving Kaschei a look.

"For which I am grateful," Kaschei murmured.

"For which everyone is grateful," Junior retorted. He brought them both breakfast--which involved eggs and sausage--and coffee. "If Kaschei has not told you all ready, your presence here was extremely fortunate for us."

Azmaria sipped her coffee. "He said that my presence changed your plans. I hope you don't see me as some kind of bargaining chip," she said. "Because of my friendship with Chrono and Rosette."

Junior smiled. "If anything, Miss Hendric, our prisoners and the artificial wombs are the bargaining chips. Of course, we wouldn't object if you could speak for us?"

"What do you mean?" Azmaria asked.

"We actively helped the Vril Society to create those artificial wombs, Miss Hendric," Junior said. "And it's still forbidden to trade or leak certain biological technologies."

"They should have confiscated the original device," Kaschei said with a snort. "Instead of leaving it with the Order to be stolen by disaffected members."

"Rosette and Chrono didn't have any reason to think there would be a problem with the security," Azmaria said, wanting to defend both her friends and the Order. "The Magdalens have always been careful about any demonic technology we've discovered."

"Except this once," Kaschei said. "Where they weren't."

"In any case," Junior said. "The device was only a short cut. The Vril Society was already attempting to create an artificial womb of their own, based on notes from the work of one of Hendric's colleagues--" Junior's analysis of the Society's project soon lost Azmaria, though she gathered that the demon was very proud of the work that had gone on behind the actual project. Eventually his report turned to more recent events, and he filled her in on what had happened while she slept.

* * *

**Joshua**

The point where the planes pursuing them fell back was the same moment the facility came into view. It was also the same moment when Rosette's forces took out two anchor points of the country-wide barrier, and it went down. The surge that accompanied the barrier's shut down made him feel like a cork bobbing in the ocean for a moment. He reached for Rizelle, and through her connected to Viede and Genai, preventing them from being temporarily disrupted by the surge.

Once the feeling passed, he circled the the facility while Chrono communicated with the demons. After a few moments an opening occurred in the facility's barrier, and he brought the flyer down in a courtyard. Ardath landed on the shotgun side of the flyer, and Joshua spoke the words that cancelled the spell. Glancing at Sam they both exited the car, taking up guard positions as Ardath opened the door for Chrono. Once they were all gathered together, they stepped forward to meet the greeting party, two demons in dark suits standing on the front steps that led up to the facility.

As they approached the pair, both demons sank to one knee. "Master," the older of the two said. "We yield ourselves and our co-conspirators to your judgment."

"And who are you, that you can do this?" Chrono asked. Joshua could feel the force behind Chrono's voice, a hard, sharp pressure like a knife. Both demons shuddered.

"I am Math, and this is Hodh," the older demon said. "We were chosen to speak for our brothers, to speak in their defense."

"You have aided the Vril Society, giving them biological technology, which is forbidden," Chrono said in that same hard, cutting voice. "You have attempted to break the laws concerning population." Hodh started to speak, but Chrono cut him off. "If your next words, Elder Brother, are to mention my own crimes--they will be your last words."

Hodh fell silent, and Math went to both knees. "Master, if there are no children at all, can it be said we broke the law? If there is no population growth, how can we exceed the limits?"

"Be assured that you broke the law," Chrono said, which made both demons gape at him in surprise. "Yet I am inclined to mercy," he continued. "Because you had no way of knowing of the existence of the first generation, and also because I know you have taken steps to see to the safety of one who is dear to the Queen and myself."

"First generation, Master?" Math asked.

"The first generation since the death of Pandaemonium," Chrono said. "Take me to see your children, and also Sister Azmaria."

Both Math and Hodh rose to their feet, and bowed very low. "Follow us, Master," Math said, and led the way into the building.

"Well, that went well," Sam said in an undertone. "But what's this about 'the first generation'? I haven't even heard rumors about it."

"You wouldn't have, it's not something demons would talk about. You owe Ardath a cigar though," Joshua said, and grinned in the face of Ardath's look of reproof.

"That so?" Sam said with an amused look. "Congratulations, Viscount, boy or a girl?"

"A boy, he's eight now," Ardath said. "I don't see where I'm owed congratulations, however, I'm not the one who was pregnant." A slight smile. "Embla prefers wine to cigars, in any case."

They were escorted into the cafeteria, and as they entered, an uneven silence fell across the room. A terrified silence from the prisoners, and a wary one from the children and demons. Joshua could hear Chrono speaking, and he knew he should be paying attention, but all he could seem to focus on was Azmaria, who was staring wide-eyed at him from where she sat surrounded by children and stacks of notebooks and paper documents. Standing just behind Azmaria was a young dark haired woman who looked petrified, but most of Joshua's attention was on Azmaria. _"Go to her," _Chrono said, his mental voice sounding amused.

Joshua obeyed, though his legs felt like they'd been replaced with jelly. Azmaria stood up so quickly that some of the papers had to be rescued from the floor. "Joshua!" She said with delight and started to move around the table--and stumbled. She would have fallen, if not for the young woman, and one of the children, who steadied her.

"Are you all right?" Joshua said, coming around the table. It was clear that she wasn't, even as he spoke. She looked sick and frail, and terrifyingly thin. "Azmaria--" She almost flew into his arms, her embrace strong despite her appearance. Her body shook with silent sobs, and for a moment all he could do was sit her back down and hold her close. The young woman who had helped steady Azmaria mumbled something about double checking the Project Director's office and hurried off.

"I'm sorry," she said when the worst of the weeping had passed. "So much has happened, I saw you, and my heart hurt--"

"That's romantic," Joshua mumured, stroking her hair.

Azmaria said something very unladylike in Portuguese, and thumped his chest. It didn't hurt, but Joshua pretended to wince in pain. "D-don't tease me," she said, glaring up at him. "I knew you were coming, Junior and Senior said you were coming--but I was afraid for you. Afraid something might happen--and, and we'd all be trapped here."

"Junior and Senior?"

"The demons who came in with you," Azmaria said. "They wouldn't tell me their names. They want me to speak for them, if necessary."

"I see," Joshua said. "I also see they've put you to work--" He indicated the stacks on the table.

"These are all the manuscripts and documents concerning the Vril Society's Superman Project. I've been sorting through them, with Irene's help," Azmaria said, and started to turn. "Irene this is--what in the world? Where did she go?"

"Ah, she found somewhere else to be, I think," Joshua said. "Who is she?"

"Someone who it turned out to be very good to know," Azmaria said with a slight smile. "She's a sorceress, and an agent for the GUGB."

"Well, that half-explains why she ran off," Joshua said. "Chrono's scary enough, but I'm in charge of the sorcerer-hunters."

"You are not in the least bit scary," Azmaria said with an indignant frown. "And neither is Chrono."

Joshua laughed. "That's because you know us, Az. You didn't see her because your back was to her, but your friend's face was white as a sheet when she saw us come in."

"Hmph," Azmaria said. "We should go find her, before she runs into Kaschei. Did she say where she went?"

"Something about the program director's office--" He was about to ask who Kaschei was, but the look of panic on Azmaria's face stopped him.

"Oh dear. Ernst, please hand me my cane?" One of the children handed her the cane, and she rose to her feet. "We have to find her, before she finds Kaschei--Irene's former familiar," Azmaria explained.

"Shouldn't that be find her before Kaschei does?" Joshua asked, following Azmaria as she hobbled out of the cafeteria.

"No, it's the other way," Azmaria said. "It's all very sad, romantic and stupid, like something from a melodrama. Kaschei loves her, Irene is convinced he wants to kill her, so he's been avoiding her, and Irene doesn't know that he's here."

"And his most recent hiding place is this director's office?" Joshua asked.

"Yes."

By the shouting and the crashes that echoed down the hall, they seemed to be too late. Joshua hurried ahead of Azmaria, sword in hand, just in time to run into a terrified Irene running in the opposite direction. Joshua almost lost the sword in the collision (to the tune of a snicker from Rizelle), and landed flat on his rear, while Irene scrambled up to her feet, swearing and shouting hysterically in Russian. Before she could think run or attack, Joshua said, "Viede, hold her." He heard Azmaria gasp as Viede materialized, and caught hold of Irene.

"Let go of me!" Irene screamed, struggling against Viede's hold. She couldn't break free, which made her scream and swear louder. Onlookers appeared, and Joshua quickly explained the situation, with Azmaria's help.

Once the onlookers had been sent away, he took Azmaria aside. "Az," he said very softly. "I'm going to have to be extremely unpleasant for the next few minutes. I want you to go to Kaschei and tell him that I'm going to put Irene in his custody, okay?"

The look Azmaria gave him was half frightened, half worried. He could see she wanted to question him, but instead she nodded. "All right," she said, and quickly hobbled in the direction the crashes had come from.

Joshua turned back to Irene, who had lapsed into a twitchy, furious silence. Joshua simply watched her, stared at her until she dropped her gaze. "Sorceress, your fate is already decided," he said coldly in German. "And your life is forfeit for the crime of diablerie and the enslavement of a son of Pandaemonium. Even if you run, even if you by some miracle escape, this will still be true. Yield."

"I'd rather die by that sword than be ripped apart by a demon," Irene said.

"Your life belongs to the demon you enslaved," Joshua said. "You've known that since you first bound him to you. Yield or be bound, it makes not difference, because the end is the same."

"I won't yield," Irene snarled. "You'll have to bind me, because I won't stop fighting."

"I thought you might say that," Joshua said, and gently pressed his fingers against Irene's forehead. "Sleep." The sorceress' eyes rolled up in her head, and she went limp. Joshua caught her as Viede disappeared, and laid her carefully on the floor.

Azmaria arrived a few minutes later with a handsome, dark skinned demon who was upset enough to be in battle mode. His armor was white and charcoal gray, and though the design was different, it still reminded him of Aion's. Kaschei's hair was silvery, and his horns were straight, canted back slightly, and came to blunt points. His wings were broad, and set high.

Joshua privately thought that Irene had good taste in men. Joshua's opinion of Irene's taste went up several notches when the first words out of the demon's mouth were. "Is Irina all right?" The question was accompanied by a thunderous frown that stopped just short of being threatening.

"She's fine, my lord Count," Joshua said, rising and stepping away from the sorceress with a bow. "She's in your custody, and your responsibility now. If she tries to escape or otherwise causes trouble--" Joshua trailed off.

The frown became darker. "She will not cause any problems," Kaschei said, and scooped the sleeping sorceress up.


	22. Op and Magus: Deal With a Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go boom.

**Sam**

The minute we entered the cafeteria, it went dead quiet, and the demons in the room went to one knee. The humans either backed away (in the case of the prisoners) or stood and stared (in the case of the few adults who seemed to be allied with the kids and demons). "Please stand, brothers," Chrono said. "Formality isn't necessary." When the demons got back to their feet, Chrono told them that they and the children would be given homes, and that there wouldn't be any repercussions concerning the technology leak. The demons in return explained as much of the situation and the background information about this place as possible.

The Kid meanwhile was making like a pointer, his attention totally focussed on a skinny, sickly looking girl with white hair sitting at one of the tables. Azmaria Hendric. The Kid must have gotten permission, because he was off like a shot before Chrono was half through with his little speech. The Kid and the girl sort of stumbled together and hung on tight to each other. Joshua helped the girl--young woman, really--sit down, still holding her close, and stroking her hair. I was a little surprised, I'd known in a general sort of way that he and Hendric were friends, but from what I could see now, they were a lot closer than friends.

"You didn't know?" Ardath asked in an undertone. He gave me a sidelong look. "Joshua saw Sister Azmaria on a regular basis for quite some time. Not an 'official' relationship, given her restrictions of course, but they were very close."

"No," I said. "Anyway, I thought he was--you know. Queer." It had never really made me uncomfortable that the Kid liked men. He was discreet about it, the way you almost had to be, if you didn't want to start any trouble for yourself or anyone else, and the way I'd always seen it, it didn't have anything to do with how the Kid did his job. It was the idea that the Kid liked guys _and_ girls that was a little disturbing.

"Ah, the love no one dares speak of," Ardath said, looking amused. "On pain of being electrocuted."

_"Less gossip, more paying attention, please." _Chrono's voice rang inside my head, and presumably Ardath's too, because he looked pretty embarrassed.

I thought "sorry" as loudly as I could, and Chrono gave the both of us a slight smile before turning his attention to the prisoners. "Friedrich Baur, please come forward," he said. The little clump of prisoners shifted around some, then the guy formerly in charge stepped forward.

Friedrich Bauer wasn't especially tall or imposing. He had a short beard and mustache, and thinning, iron gray hair. At one time he might have seemed scholarly and distinguished, but at the moment he looked like five miles of bad road. "I am Friedrich Bauer," he said, doing his best to give Chrono a defiant glare. "What do you intend to do with us?" He demanded.

"For the moment, nothing," Chrono said. "Later, you'll be tried for your crimes according to Lemurian law."

Bauer went red, and launched into a tirade of accusations and threats. The jist of the rant was that Bauer and his people were in the right, and Chrono and his diabolical goons were committing heinous acts of war, for which they would be punished. He was backed up by some of the prisoners. Meanwhile, the demons and former prisoners were launching some threats and accusations of their own at Bauer and _his_ diabolical goons. The mood was getting pretty ugly all around, to the point where I was wondering if me and Ardath would get stuck with the job of protecting the prisoners from being torn apart.

Chrono let the guy rant for a while before squashing him flat with a "Shut up," that just about turned the air to lead. Bauer and most of the prisoners joined him on the ground, some of them uselessly clapping their hands over their ears, trying to block out the sound that hung in the air. The pressure wasn't directed at me, or anyone but the prisoners, but the urge to hit the deck was pretty strong. "The Queen is issuing a declaration of war against Germany and its allies," Chrono said. "You are prisoners of war, and will be tried for your crimes according to Lemurian law."

"We have committed no crimes!" Bauer said, jaw clenched. "You are the criminals here--"

"I am not arguing with you," Chrono said, and turned his back on Bauer. "Sam, go check on Joshua, please tell him and Azmaria that I need to see them."

"On it sir," I said. I looked over in the direction that the Kid had been a few minutes ago, and saw that both he and Azmaria were gone.

"They left, apparently in pursuit of a young woman who left the room," Ardath said helpfully. "In that direction." He pointed toward one of the exits.

"Thanks, Viscount," I said, and took off in the direction indicated.

It didn't take long to find the Kid, mostly because you could hear Hendric giving him an earful down the hall. She was leaning forward on a cane, face flushed red as she glared at the Kid. Joshua was giving Hendric a sheepish 'please don't hit me look,' while a bemused looking demon looked on. The demon was holding a pretty young woman in his arms, who I presumed was the woman who'd left the room. The woman was out like a light, and there was a slight glow around her--some kind of binding.

From the content of the sister's harangue, the woman was a sorceress, and Joshua was guilty of the crime of frightening her. Joshua meanwhile, was digging his own grave. "Az, she was frightened to begin with, all I did was tell her what she expected to hear," he protested.

"You used Kaschei as a threat!" Azmaria shot back. "How is he supposed to convince her he doesn't mean her harm if-if you use him to scare her!"

"I never said he meant her harm!" Joshua argued. "Not once!"

"I dunno Kid, 'your life is forfeit,' has all kinds of uncomfortable implications, especially to a sorcerer," I said, stepping up before the good sister could hit him with her cane.

"But that's what you're supposed to say when making an arrest," Joshua said. "How she decides to interpret that isn't my fault, right?"

Face met palm. "Kid--" I said. I turned to the sister, who'd been watching our little exchange, curiousity having overcome outrage. "Don't be too hard on him, Sister, he can't help it. I think _The Prince_ was his favorite bed time story as a kid, sometimes."

The Kid flushed, and gave me an embarrassed glare. "What I was doing wasn't exactly Machiavellian, Sam."

"Maybe not," I said with a grin.

The Kid sighed and rolled his eyes at me before turning to the Sister. "Az, this is Sam, my primary operative. Sam, this is Sister Azmaria Hendric, Militia Class Agent of the Magdalen Order."

I tipped an imaginary hat at the young lady. I wondered about the 'primary operative' thing but didn't ask. "Pleased to meet you Sister," I said.

"Likewise," Azmaria said with a smile.

"Chrono sent me to find you both," I said. "He'd like to speak with you."

Joshua nodded, then turned to the demon. "My lord Count, will you be presenting yourself to Lord Chrono?"

"I probably should," the demon said, but looked down at the woman he held.

"My lord," Joshua said. "My agent can watch her for you."

The demon gave me the once over, obviously trying to decide if I was trustworthy, before responding. "I have no objection," he said finally. "The spell?"

"Will start to wear off soon." Joshua smiled. "Hopefully, she'll be a lot calmer, but if not, Sam's pretty good at talking sense into people."

So, I ended up baby-sitting the sorceress. The demon carried the woman back to the cafeteria, and a pallet was set up for her. Sister Azmaria hovered and fussed for a few minutes while the demon loomed, then everyone went off to talk to Chrono. I sat down in a chair provided by one of the kids, and drank the really bad coffee provided by same while I waited for the sorceress to wake up.

The binding spell Joshua uses on captive sorcerers knocks them out, and also acts as some kind of sedative. When they wake up they're calm and inclined to be a little talkative. If you're careful, you can get a lot of information out of them. They can't move around much, but they really don't care. Miss Antonova's wake up was pretty standard--her eyes fluttered open and she looked around with a slight frown before looking at me. "Who?" She asked in German.

"The name's Sam Tomlin, ma'am," I said, and waited a bit for the translator to repeat what I said. "Operative for the Lemurians at the New York Embassy."

"You work for the Magus," Irene said with a frown.

"For Mister Christopher, yeah," I said. "Are you thirsty? Hungry?"

The sorceress shook her head. "I don't want my last meal to involve cabbage," Irene Antonova said with a mordant smile. "If I get a last meal, that is."

"I don't think you have to worry on that score, ma'am," I said. "The Count seemed pretty attached to the idea of your continued existence."

"Only to draw out his revenge," Irene said. "He hates me." The last was said in a much younger sounding voice.

"How come?"

"I bound him," Irene said. "Piotr convinced me he was too dangerous to be free. I was afraid."

You don't get guilt very often from sorcerers. You get fear and paranoia a lot, but not very much guilt, and almost never regret. Sorcerers as a general rule are pretty well convinced that whatever they did was right, no matter how illegal it might have been. Irene though looked like she was sorry as hell about something, or about as sorry as she could feel while under the influence of the binding spell.

It wasn't hard getting her to tell her story. Usually sorcerers try to fight it, however calm and agreeable the spell makes them. You have to pry and pull the answers out of them. You eventually do get the truth out of them, or some variety of it, because they want justify their actions, or they're hoping for some kind of plea bargain by informing on other sorcerers. Sometimes though, sorcerers just want to confess, and get it over with. Miss Antonova seemed to fall into the latter category.

She wanted to tell me everything, though that 'everything' seemed to be mostly about Kaschei. When she was a little girl, for instance, she'd thought he was the son of some witch in a fairy tale. (She also told me the fairy tale in question, it wasn't exactly a formal interrogation, so I didn't bother keeping her on track.) How he'd been her father's familiar, and how he'd helped her and her mentor defeat her father, who had been engaged in various criminal activities. For someone convinced her former familiar hated her, she had a lot of happy memories about him, from conversations to concerts to missions. I let her talk herself out, then got up to get her some food and a cup of coffee.

That's when everything went dark. And by dark, I don't mean the electricity suddenly went out, and I don't mean everything suddenly went black. The lights were still on, and the room had the same level of brightness as when we'd come in. The dark I'm talking about is hungry and malicious--the kind of feeling a haunted house, or the emanations from a particularly evil spirit gives off. Only, this was dark magnified by a factor of ten. Everyone in the room went dead quiet, even the prisoners. Whatever was out there wasn't interested in rescuing them. We got confirmation on that a few moments later, when something that was hugely loud, but not thunder shook the building.

"Something hit the barrier," one of the demons said. There were more explosion, and the shattering of windows as the ground shook. There were some screams and scrambling--and then the falling glass from the windows _stopped_ falling, and sort of hung there for a moment before drifting down. A lot of someones in the room appeared to be telekinetic.

"I knew the attacks were too simple," Joshua said. "They were waiting to see where we landed." His sword was out, and there was a sort of heat shimmer along its edge. He glanced at Ardath, then at the other demons. "Anyone who can, follow me," he said, and headed for the exit. I was a little surprised when Ardath immediately fell in step just behind Joshua without even a sarcastic comment. After a split second, both Ardath and Joshua were followed by six other demons, including Kaschei.

I started after, but Chrono caught me by the arm. I hadn't even heard him come up. "You need to stay behind, Sam," Chrono said.

I tried to pry my arm free from Chrono's grip, but--no suprise--couldn't manage it. "Why?"

"Sam, you're the only one with an alchemically enhanced, blessed weapon," Chrono said patiently. "But you're also low on ammunition, and Joshua would have to protect you from the miasma."

"Shit!" I stopped fighting Chrono's grip on my arm, and he turned me loose.

"If it makes you feel any better, you weren't the only one demoted to final tier defense," Chrono said with a wry grin.

"Who'd be able to--oh. Heh." The Queen obviously didn't want Chrono risking himself. "Looks like I'm back to guarding your ass, sir," I said.

Chrono looked amused. "Looks like," he said agreeably. "Now let's see about making this place a little more defensible..."

* * *

**Joshua**

It felt a little strange taking the lead like this. In the past when working with Ardath, Joshua had usually taken a more subordinate role, except when directly ordered to take the lead by Chrono or Rosette. He hadn't been ordered into the lead this time--he'd just taken it. Yet Ardath hadn't objected, and the volunteers had followed Ardath's lead immediately. He wondered at that, then set it aside. He'd ask Ardath about it later, in private.

The dark pressed in like some Lovecraftian horror beyond time and space as Joshua and the small party of defenders followed him down the hall. It froze the air, and filled it with shadows and whispers. He sent a silent query to Rizelle, who responded with a series of images of the outside of the barrier. "It looks like our enemy is going all out," Joshua said.

"Ah?" Ardath tilted a curious look at Joshua.

"Whoever's out there is using the forbidden arcana," Joshua explained. "It looks like a taxidermist's nightmare out there." He tried to keep his tone light, but couldn't quite manage it. Instead, his voice sounded more like a snarl. They weren't just _using_ "demonic" constructs made from the corpses of humans and animals, they were _creating_ them. The restless, confused spirits bound to the corpses would slowly become malevolent, and if they broke loose, would wreak a horrific vengeance upon the living until confined and exorcised.

He recieved a pulse of _anger_ from Chrono. _"We'll give them instruction on why the forbidden arcana is forbidden," _he said. To everyone Chrono said, _"I'm going to raise a smaller barrier around the building, and let the outer barrier drop once you get outside." _The idea that accompanied Chrono's words was of over confident forces believing that the defenses had been breached, instead of deliberately removed.

"Understood, brother," Joshua said aloud.

Once they were outside the building, the demons took up up defensive positions between the main building and the front gate of the facility. The air was full of strange howls and cries, and somewhere above the barrier, Joshua could see three planes. Unlike the ones they'd faced previously, the ones above had barriers. Kaschei and two of the volunteers. had taken to the air, and were hovering in positions between ten and twenty feet around Joshua. Ardath and the other two flanked him. The demons were haloed by astral, their horns burning as they powered up, clothes becoming fantastical armor, and their limbs became blades.

Joshua took a deep breath, and then another, connecting lines of power within himself. The sword in Joshua's hand blazed, and he was surrounded by an astral-halo of his own. "Genai, Rizelle, Viede," he said. "Come to me." The connections between himself and the Sinners weren't geasa, they obeyed because of Aion. They obeyed because he had created an outpost for them, a place to exist within the Astrallines. They appeared, shadowy not quite there shapes surrounding him. Calm and sensible Viede, angry and reckless Genai, manipulative and spiteful Rizelle. The volunteers gave him uneasy looks, but said nothing. The difference between what he did and diablerie were subtle, and recently freed demons wouldn't care about the subtlety, just the existence of the link.

Chrono's barrier activated, surrounding the main building. The outer barrier, crawling with lightning, began to go down. Shrieks and howls could be heard, and an unnatural thunder--shapes could be seen, throwing themselves against the main gate, throwing themselves against the barrier. Joshua glanced up at the circling planes. _There's so much Astral in the air they shouldn't be able to sense the smaller barrier, _Joshua thought. Hoped. A ripple went through the defenders, a focussed sort of anticipation as they waited for the barrier to go down.

The open area between the wall and the main building began to fill with miasma, thick coils of red lit black "fog" that acted more like the fingers of a hand, probing the area. The fingers recoiled, then struck, only to be burned away by the light surrounding the defenders. The barrier went down completely, and the dead began to come over the wall and through the gate. Huge multilimbed constructs in vaguely canine and wyrm shapes, followed by revenants wearing uniforms and carrying rifles.

No one shouted the command to attack, it just happened, the defenders perfectly in tune with each other. Kaschei and the two demons with him went straight for the planes while Ardath and his demons collided with the wave of revenants and constructs, before the revenants had the chance to fire. The dead were blown or hacked apart, some of them reforming into new shapes as the sorcerers pulled them back together. Gunfire blazed up, a stuttering series of reports as the revenants fired from the cover created by the fallen constructs. Barriers went up, but not before one of the volunteers was forced to retreat and heal his wounds.

Genai and Viede went into defensive positions, freeing Ardath to attack offensively. Joshua extended line barriers, herding the dead into traps and providing cover for the demons on the ground. "Rizelle."

Hundreds of tiny, shadowy "spiders" sailed into the air on lines of thread-thin darkness, their targets the nearest of the revenants. Where the spiders found a target, Rizelle took over. The controlled revenants turned their weapons on their own forces. The attackers were pushed back, caught between the wall and the defenders.

The sound of huge explosions shook the air, and Joshua looked up just in time to see Kaschei drop like a stone. Two of the planes had been destroyed, but the last one was circling, surrounded by a barrier. "Viede!" Joshua shouted. Viede shot upward, catching Kaschei and setting him down on the ground. The Count was badly burned, and one of his arms, and most of one of his legs was blown away. He was unconscious, though his wounds were rapidly healing.

_"Anyone strong enough to do that much damage to a Count," _a voice whispered in the back of his mind. _"Is very dangerous indeed." _Aion's voice.

"I realize that," Joshua said. The world seemed to go very still. He was aware of Ardath saying something, and Genai snarling, but it didn't penetrate the stillness surrounding him. Everything slowed down, or he did, frozen in a moment.

_"He is not alone, there are more on the ground, directing most of the revenants," _Aion continued. His tone said, _you need my help, don't you?_

"Rosette--" Joshua said. His tone said, _if I accept, what will you take in exchange?_

_"Isn't here yet. You need to bring him down, and you need me to fly," _Aion said.

Distantly, he could hear Chrono's objection. _"It's okay," _he said silently to Chrono. "Rizelle, target the sorcerers on the ground, there's three outside the walls," he said aloud. Then, "Five minutes. Aion."

Then everything sped up, and everything went white.


	23. The Demon: Endless Summer by the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an ending.

Joshua relayed information I provided, then said, "Five minutes. Aion."

It took less than a second, but it felt like an eternity as my power filled Joshua, once more giving him the strength of an Apostle, and the powers of a demon. For a very brief period of time, Joshua would have wings again. As he took my power, it interacted with the neural net left by Chrono's horns, causing a dissonance that translated as pain. Pain that felt like an iron spike driven into our brain, a pain made more unpleasant by the echo of Chrono's fear and mistrust.

"Aion!" Chrono shouted, his voice echoing in our head. Whitefire burned along our nerves, a screaming pain counterpoint to the fear and anger echoed from Chrono. "Aion, let Joshua go--!"

"Only if he lets go first," I said mockingly. "And that's something Joshua just can't do."

"Five minutes, and you'll waste them arguing, so shut up!" The shout came from Joshua, sheer exasperation, bordering on anger. The laugh that followed was mine. I could sense that Chrono was surprised by the strength of Joshua's irritation. The surprise didn't last long.

"If you harm Joshua--" Chrono snarled. I could feel him wanting to drop the barrier and come after the both of us.

"You'll what? Kill me?" I asked. Chrono's temper soared.

"Shut. Up." Joshua's exasperation was accompanied by an image of two little boys, fighting in mud.

In a rare moment of accord, both Chrono and I sputtered. "Unfair!"

"Remarkably apt you mean," Joshua snarled. His wings blazed up, and we were flying.

Four minutes

The thing I had always found fascinating about Joshua's use of Chrono's horns had been how skillful his manipulation of time had become by the time Chrono and his sister had finally caught up to us. He could do things that Chrono had never been able to learn how to do. Joshua could be in multiple places at once. He slipped between moments, seeming to move much more quickly than he actually was. Joshua could slow or freeze his opponent's local time and snatch the weapon from his or her hand. Their use of the same power was so radically different, that sometimes it seemed as if Joshua had somehow gotten an entirely different power from the horns, or perhaps, some aspect of his Factor had changed Chrono's horns in some way.

Joshua didn't disappoint me; he shot straight up toward our opponent's plane, veering aside to avoid the fighter's guns. Our opponent was a female sorceress with wide, dark eyes that made Joshua think Fiore! for one stunned moment before he collected himself. The bolt of force he sent against the barrier lit up the barrier without harming anything--but light can be a weapon too. No matter how confident you may be in your shield or armor, something moving fast toward your eyes will make you blink.

Three minutes.

Our opponent blinked, and Joshua was suddenly above her. He struck the barrier again and again, following as she tried to bring her guns to bear against us. We were much faster than the Count had been, and stronger. We dodged aside each time she managed to attack. The barrier began to crack under the force of our blows. She should have dropped the barrier and attacked full out--but she didn't. Instead, she strengthened the barrier, and tried an evasive maneuver.

Two minutes.

Her plane stalled, and she panicked, firing wild bolts of force that never hit. The plane started to drop, then steadied. "She's using her magic to keep the plane in the air," Joshua said. "Her barrier should be weaker now." He slammed the sword against the barrier again--and it shattered. We could sense her trying to reform the barrier, but--

One minute.

Joshua landed lightly on a wing of the plane, his shoes slipping slight as he wing walked to the cockpit. He must have seemed a blur to the sorceress as he moved forward and shattered the cockpit's windshield. The sorceress' scream of fear and rage was tinny and weak, whipped away by the wind. She scrambled for her pistol, but never reached it; Joshua froze her. The plane began to fall, and Joshua moved away from it, and directed its path away from the building below.

Then everything stopped, and everything went black.

Zero.

Once upon a time there was a boy who didn't believe in heaven or hell, but feared the latter anyway. The reason for his fear wasn't for his own sake, but for the sake of people he cared about. That these people had for the most part considered him a means to an end didn't matter, so he built a house on the shore of the sea called Eternity and invited them to stay. In exchange, the people he cared about agreed to help the boy (though they were not entirely grateful, or particularly agreeable).

Once upon a time, there were five Sinners who tried to end the world. That the world tried to end them first wasn't considered a valid excuse.

Once upon a time, there were four friends who kept the world from ending. Three of them didn't survive the attempt, and one was a Sinner himself.

Once upon a time, there were two lovers who died together. But the world wasn't through with them yet, so they returned.

Once upon a time, there was a demon...and an angry girl with a gun.

I watched the waves roll in, with the house at my back. The bright sunlight felt warm, and the cool wind from over the water blew strands of hair into my eyes. I could hear gulls, and see them fly over the water. I could hear the sea itself, a sound that wasn't the hiss of waves hitting the shore, or the sound of the wind. Instead, I heard music, and the sound of thousands of voices speaking at once. "The place where all stories end," I said aloud.

How long I'd been standing there was difficult to say--time didn't truly pass in this place. After a while, I could hear footsteps behind me, but I didn't turn around. For a moment, there was only the sound of wind and water, then, "You never said why you're here."

"You seem to think I owe you an explanation, Miss Hendric," I said. "I don't."

"Don't you? Where is Joshua?" Azmaria Hendric stepped in front of me, pinkish eyes glaring at me. In this not-quite-dream she wore the habit of a Magdalen Order exorcist, and she carried a .45 that was currently pointed at my midsection. She was furious, and extremely determined--Azmaria had become a very strong young woman in the past nine years or so. I thought her friends must be extremely proud of her. I knew that Joshua was.

"I don't exactly keep him in my pocket, Miss Hendric," I said. "If he's not in the house, he might have taken a walk."

"Joshua's body is lying in a hospital bed," Azmaria said. "And you think the rest of him might have taken a walk?"

"Yes, that sounds about right," I said. I watched Azmaria turn bright red. "Anger only benefits your opponent," I advised. She shot me, but the bullet passed through harmlessly. "I believe you've proven my point, Miss," I said.

"Why are you here?" Azmaria asked again.

"Why are you?" I asked in return.

"I don't know--I fell asleep, and then I was here," Azmaria said. She sounded uncertain now, uneasy. She had come to this place before, had met and spoken to Joshua for the first time in this very place, though she hadn't known who he was back then. Azmaria had visited many times since then, though I doubt she ever truly realized it.

"Fell asleep at his bedside?" I guessed. "How romantic."

"Don't mock me!" Azmaria shouted. She looked like she couldn't decide whether to cry, or try to shoot me again.

"I wasn't," I said. "Did you try the house?"

"The door's locked." Azmaria said. "No one answered when I knocked."

I walked past her heading toward the house, then turned back when I realized she hadn't followed. "Well, do you want to find Joshua or not?" I asked. She glared at me, but followed, holstering her gun.

I tried the door, and found that the knob turned quite easily. "Ah." I opened to the door, and glanced back at Azmaria, who was frowning.

"How?"

"At a guess, he wasn't expecting a visitor," I said. "After you."

Azmaria walked past me, giving me an uncertain look as she stepped into the house. "The last time I was here, the other Sinners were here. Genai, Rizelle, and Viede," she said. "They kept warning me away, threatening me."

"It's part of the arrangement," I said. "A series of ritual challenges and responses. You answered more or less correctly, so you could enter the house. You owe Rizelle an offering though."

"I'll light a candle for her," Azmaria said, her tone slightly snippy now. She frowned up at me. "Rizelle said he was hiding something from me. Was that part of the 'challenge'?"

"No, he is hiding something," I said. "Quite a few things, actually. Just as you've had to hide things from him--it's a part of your profession."

"Is there something personal he's hiding from me?" She asked intently.

"Why are you asking me? Ask Joshua." I started down the hall before she could find a reply. After a moment's hesitation, she followed me.

We found Joshua in the parlor, stretched out on the couch reading a pulp, and wearing pajamas, his bare feet propped up on a pillow. More magazines were scattered on the coffee table, and on the couch itself. There was a half full glass of orange juice on the lampstand, and a plate of sandwiches cut into triangles. I was struck by a strange sort of nostalgia--Joshua looked the way he usually had after one of his more severe fits. Pale and tired, with bruised looking eyes and flecks of red where capillaries had burst from the force of his coughs. "Azmaria!" He said with a watery smile. "I thought I heard you."

"You knew I was outside?" Azmaria asked, stepping into the room.

"I thought you might be," Joshua said. "I couldn't get to the door though." He laughed a little, then coughed. "My subconscious seems to be practicing unsympathetic magic on me."

Azmaria smiled at the feeble joke, and went over to the couch. She felt his forehead. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Keep me company?" Joshua asked. "We have a lot to talk about."

Neither of them seemed aware of my presence. I left them to their conversation, and wandered back outside. I could hear a familiar voice calling my name. When I turned in the direction that the voice seemed come from, I found myself in a large room with a hexagram etched into the stone floor. At every intersection and point was a wrought iron brazier filled with blue-white fire. Rosette was seated in a chair at the center of the hexagram, and Chrono was a dark shadow at her side. The Queen and the Master, and neither of them looked pleased. "Joshua is fine," I said. "So is Miss Hendric."

"What did you do to him? And Azmaria?" Rosette asked, glaring at me.

I wanted to make a joke about killing looks, and already being dead, but instead I said, "nothing. Joshua over exerted himself. As for Miss Hendric, you know that she's able to visit him. Is that all you wanted to know?" I started to turn, as if I were going to leave, even knowing I wouldn't be able to until I was given leave.

"Did you see this war coming?" Chrono asked suddenly.

"Anyone who wasn't blind could have seen it coming," I said.

"Do you want this war?" Rosette asked.

"Review my strategy," I said, suddenly angry. "Review my preferred methods."

"I remember the riots you instigated, Aion," Rosette said, her voice nearly a growl.

"The riots were only a distraction and you know it," I said. "No I don't want this war, and I have nothing to do with the ones who do." I paused. "There's a remote chance that one or two of my proteges escaped to Europe. If you blame me for that though, you might as well blame Miss Hendric for her adopted father's colleagues."

"Why don't you want the war?" Chrono asked.

"They take too long, are impossible to control and have unanticipated consequences," I said. I could feel my self begin to fade. For some reason, I could hear the sound of the sea. Apparently, Joshua wasn't the only one who had over exerted himself. I couldn't remember what I might have done, however.

"You healed Joshua," Chrono said.

Oh. We fell? I thought I could remember that. Falling. Someone trying to catch us. Impact.

Both Chrono and Rosette were both looking at me in a very odd way. "Sleep, brother," Chrono said in a suspiciously gentle voice.

I tried to protest, or at least glare at them, but found myself obeying his command instead. I drifted into the sound of the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it is possible to cough so hard (and long) you burst capillaries--usually around your eyes


	24. Postlude: How Many Miles to Babylon?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a homecoming.

**[Excerpt, "Ran and Me," essay by Beth Tomlin from the collection _How Many Miles to Babylon: Stories of the Lemurian Homefront _Leandro Christopher-Hendric and Sarita eds. copyright 1967, Pyramid Press Books and Media]** _   
_

Just a few days after dad left on a mission (which would later become known as the Hendric Affair,) a black woman and a demon girl with cat ears showed up at the door and talked to mom. And when I say "talked to" I mean "argued with." I couldn't catch a lot of what they said, because mom sent me outside, but the conversation went on for a couple hours, and the next thing I knew, we were packing our bags and heading to New York.

Basically, the dependants of all the agents working for Lemuria were being asked to move to Lemuria. To sweeten the deal, the wives of agents who had been nurses, teachers and secretaries before they'd gotten married were being offered jobs with really good pay. Mom had been a nurse, (which is how she met dad, in fact) so that's what she started out as, though it turned out that she'd left nursing because she _hated_ it, not because she'd gotten married. She tried to stick it out, because it was something she'd gone to school for, and it was something she knew how to do. After about a month though, Shader (the cat demon girl) turned up again and nagged mom into taking some tests. Shader also asked mom a lot of questions about hobbies. She found out that mom had a garden back in the States, and a week later, mom got offered a job in Agriculture, which she liked a lot better. She started out as a trainee in a hydrogarden, and by the end of the war, she was a shift supervisor.

The apartment we were assigned in Mu had an enclosed courtyard with stone planters and a picnic table. It had three bedrooms, a big bathroom, and a big kitchen-dining area. Mom turned one of the bedrooms into a sewing room. It also did duty as a guest room, and a place to study. Most of our neighbors were the dependants of agents like me and mom, though there were also a few technician and maintenance families, and a lot later, refugees. The neighbors were friendly, and there were other kids--both demon and human--to play with, though it took mom a while to warm to the idea of me having friends who were demons. (It helped that she ended up being friends with the mom of my friend Ran.)

It took a while before we got used to living underground. It helped that the ceilings were so high, and the light during "day cycles" was almost exactly like sunlight. At night, the light would dim, and you'd get images of the stars and the moon projected on the ceiling. It seemed like an exciting adventure to me during the first week or so--until I had to go school. Which ended up being an completely different kind of adventure. School was where I met Ran--he was about nine and looked five, and was the only demon in my class. (At first, the demon and human kids were kept seperate. Ran was an experiment which must have worked out pretty well, because by the end of the first year, the classes were completely mixed.)

He was a funny little kid, talking almost like a grown up one minute, then acting like a complete goofball the next. Ran's desk was right next to mine, and I remember thinking that he needed a booster seat for his desk, he was so little. (Anyone teasing him about being little quickly learned that he might be little, but he was also stronger and faster than them. Also, spit balls and other projectiles mysteriously reversed trajectories when they were thrown at him.) He decided we were going to be friends the first day, though our first conversation was an argument. ("I do _not_ need a booster seat! You take that back!" "I didn't say anything!") He followed me home, and it turned out he lived down the hallway from us.

During the war, dad would send letters when he could, and pictures. He'd always end the letters he sent me with "take care of your mom, and stay out of trouble." It was a little silly, but it always made me smile anyway. A couple times, he was even able to call us. I missed him a lot, but the war was really hard on mom. She would have conniptions whenever we heard about battles in the vicinity of where ever the last letter had been mailed from, or when there was a gap between letters. Embla, Ran's mom, was a big help during those times--she'd bring Ran, some board games and snacks, and send us outside while she talked to mom.

On the day we heard about the war ending, me and Ran were working on the holographic blue print of a playhouse our class was building for the primary kids (with the help of some professional carpenters) when mom came into the kitchen with the good news. Well, at first I was pretty sure it _wasn't_ good news, because she looked like she was crying. I jumped up out of my chair, feeling suddenly cold, a little queasy, and a lot scared. "Mom? What's wrong?" She swooped on me, and gave me a huge hug. "Mom? What's going on?"

At first all she could say was my names, "Junie" and "Beth" over and over again, which was scary. Eventually the words "I'm so happy!" and "The war's over, your father's coming home!" came out.

I whooped, hugging her back. "When's he coming back?"

"Tomorrow night!" Mom said, and let go. "He said something about being stuck in Japan."

"Is there going to be a party?" Ran asked.

Mom smiled at Ran. "Probably a few days after Sam has a chance to rest," mom said. Her eyes widened as she thought of something. "I should call the girls, and see what they're doing--maybe we could use the community center." She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and went to call her friends.

I sat back down with a thump. "Wow. Dad's coming home!"

"And the war's over," Ran said, trying to sound like one of our teachers.

"Dad's coming home, _and_ the war's over," I said, then reached out and flicked his ear.

"Hey! what was that for?" Ran said, rubbing his ear and glaring at me.

Big baby. Like that even hurt. "You used Elder Olath's 'are you sure your priorities are in the correct order' tone on me," I said.

"You're mean," Ran said. Despite the accusation, he grinned. "I can't wait to meet Mr. Tomlin. Do you think he'll give me his autograph?"

I felt my face heat up at that. Dad was really well known since he worked directly for the Queen's brother. He was also one of the best operatives in the States before the war. "He isn't all that famous," I said, then I grinned evilly. "I should be asking about getting _your_ dads' autograph," I said. General-Viscount Ardath and Viscount Syn had terrorized occupying forces in Belgium and France, and worked with the various resistance movements, getting them supplies and information during the war.

Ran laughed. "I can't even imagine their reaction if I asked them."

I was a nervous, excited wreck most of the night and all of the next day. I think everyone else was in the same state of dazed relief and excitement too, because the teachers called a half day, and just let us listen to the news. Ran and me turned in our plans for the playhouse for peer review, ate a quick lunch, then Ran went to his Composition class, and I helped out in the school library.

I got home before mom, and found a message on the on the icebox from her, saying she was going to be meeting dad at the terminal, and to start dinner. _Nothing too odd, dear. I took a chicken out of the freezer. _I snickered, but decided to take the high road and settled on rosemary-lemon roasted chicken, baked potatoes, corn on the cob, sourdough rolls, and a green salad.

Dinner was almost ready when mom and dad came home. I heard the door chimes, and their voices--I dropped the knife was chopping up greens with and ran into the living room. Dad was wearing a battered looking trench coat, and a grey fedora. One of his arms was in a sling, and he was carrying a suitcase. He smiled when he saw me, and set down the suitcase. "Junie, how's my favorite daughter? You've really grown."

We hugged, me trying to be careful with his sling, and dad not caring and doing his best to give me a bear hug. "What happened to your arm? We really missed you, we're going to have a party--" I was so happy and excited that I almost started crying while I tried to tell him everything that had happened in six years in one minute.

"_Breathe _Junie," dad said, looking choked up. "You can tell me everything over dinner, kiddo." He grinned. "What's cooking?"

I hugged him again, and gave him a run down of the dinner menu. "I'm making the salad right now, everything will be ready in about thirty minutes." Then I ran back into the kitchen because I needed to check the rolls. I finished making dinner and set the table, while mom talked to dad.

Dinner was a little awkward at first. The only contact I'd had with dad was from letters and the occasional phone call. There's a lot that doesn't get said in a call or a letter, however much you say or write. Mom carried a lot of the conversation, talking about her job and about the party she and her friends were planning. She gave me an opening by mentioning my grades, so I talked about school and my friends, and the class project.

"You're building a playhouse?" Dad asked.

I nodded. "We turned in the design for review today. It's going to have two levels, a kitchen with cupboards and hopefully running water--"

"That would be really messy dear," mom interjected. "I don't think your teachers will approve it."

"We're hoping they do--and any way, the sandbox is messy too. There's going to be a couple closets with costumes for playing dress-up, a toy bin and kid sized furniture."

"Sounds pretty ambitious," dad said with a smile. "Who's 'we'?"

"Me and Ran--a friend of mine," I said.

"He's the son of someone you've worked with," mom said. "Embla."

Dad choked, spraying coffee across the table. "Embla?" He wheezed. "_Investigator_ Embla?"

Mom frowned. "She mentioned something about being an Investigator before she settled down to raise her children. Is that a problem?"

"Not on my end," dad said. "Just--small world." It was hard to tell if he was upset or amused by what he'd just learned. "Children? She had more?"

"By adoption," mom said. "A boy and girl--they're a little odd, but very polite."

"When adults are around," I said. "They are absolute _fiends_ when they think they can get away with something." They'd been real terrors once they'd gotten used to living in Mu, playing all kinds of nasty practical jokes. They'd driven me up the wall, but Ran had given back as good as he got until The Terrible Two decided to behave themselves. Mostly. There had been a couple times when their pranks would have gotten entirely out of hand if Ran hadn't been there to pull their bacon out of the fire.

"Junie," mom sighed. This was shorthand for, 'those poor kids have been through hell, you should make an effort to be nicer to them.'

"See what I mean?" I asked dad in a joking tone. "They get away with murder!"

Dad laughed. "What did your friend think of suddenly being a big brother?"

I talked about Ran and the Terrible Two, and our friends. Mom would occasionally interject with something she felt needed clarifying. We got out the photo albums and recordings of school plays and competitions. Dad told us stories about where he'd been and what he'd done during the war. From the occasional hesitation or pause, I could see that he was leaving a lot of stuff out, either for mom's sake, or mine.

I gradually let mom take over the conversation and excused myself so mom and dad could have some privacy. I went to my room, and watched the news. They were still talking when I switched the news to a music station, and went to bed.

The next day was another half day for the secondary and tertiary-level students. I think the teachers had given up on getting any work out of us, because we were told near the end of the day that classes were out for the rest of the week. (Either that, or they had parties they wanted to be going to themselves. My Biology teacher in particular looked kind of hung over, and European Literature and World History didn't even bother showing up, calling in 'sick.') Neither Ran or the Terrible Two were around that day, and when I called Ran's house at lunch, there was a privacy notice--apparently they were having a 'family day.' As classes let out, everyone was exchanging addresses and invitations. I passed out some invitations of my own that I'd printed out that morning for the party mom was planning, before heading home.


End file.
